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I 


BV    4010    .S5    1869 

Shedd,  William  Greenough 

Thayer,  1820-1894. 
Homiletics  and  pastoral 


HOMILETICS, 


XSD 


PASTORAL  THEOLOGY. 


Br  y- 
WILLIAM  G.  T.   SHEDD,  D.  D., 

BALDWIN  PEOFESSOB,  IN  UNION  TUEOLOQICAL  6E1IINAET,  NEW  YORK  CITY. 

/    '  / 


/^  EIGHTH   EDrnON".     ^ 


NEW  YORK: 

CHARLES  SCPJBNER  &  CO.,  654  BROADWAY. 

1869. 


Entered  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1867, 

By  CHARLES  6CEIBNER  &  CO.,  - -^ 

In  the  Clerk's  Office  of  the  District  Court  of  the  United  States  for  the 
Bouthern  District  of  New  York. 


ALVOBD,   6TEKE0TYPKB 


rKEFATORY    :N^0TE. 


\Most  of  the  materials  of  this  treatise  were  origi- 
nally composed,  in  the  form  of  Lectures,  in  the 
years  1852  and  1853,  when  the  author  held  the 
Professorship  of  Sacred  Hhetoric  and  Pastoral  The- 
ology, in  Auburn  Theological  Seminary/^  Upon 
entering  on  other  lines  of  study  and  instruction, 
they  were  thrown  aside.  Several  of  them,  within 
the  last  two  years,  have  appeared  in  the  Ameri- 
can Theological  Heview,  and  the  interest  which 
they  seemed  to  awaken  has  led  to  the  revision 
of  the  whole  series,  and  to  their  combination 
(with  two  or  three  other  Essays,  upon  kindred 
topics),  into  the  form  of  a  book.  Although  con- 
structed in  this  manner,  the  author  believes  that 


IV  PREFACE. 

one  "increasing  purpose"  runs  through  the  vol- 
ume; and  hopes  that  it  may  serve  to  promote, 
what  is  now  the  great  need  of  the  Church,  a  mas- 
culine and  vigorous  Rhetoric,  wedded  with  an 
earnest  and  active  Pastoral  zeal. 

-New  York,  February  16,  1867. 


CONTENTS. 


HOMILETICS. 

CHAPTER  I. 

PAGB 

Kelation  of  Sacred  Eloquence  to  Biblical  Exegesis     .  .  1 

CHAPTER  11. 
Distinctive  Nature  of  Homiletics  and  Reasons  for  its  Cultivation    38 

CHAPTER  III. 

Fundamental  Properties  of  Style       ....  59 

CHAPTER  IV. 
General  Maxims  for  Sermonizing  .  .  .  ,100 

CHAPTER  V. 
Special  Maxims  for  Sermonizing         .  .  .  i,  12Y 

CHAPTER  VI. 
The  diflferent  Species  of  Sermons  ....    144 

CHAPTER  VII. 
The  Nature  and  Choice  of  a  Text  .  .  .  '  .  159 

CHAPTER  VIII. 
The'Plan  of  a  Sermon      ......    179 

CHAPTER  IX. 
Extemporaneous  Preaching  .  .  .  ,  ,         218 


VI  CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER  X. 

PAOB 

The  Matter,  Manner,  and  Spirit  of  Preaching     .  .  .     245 

CHAPTER  XI. 
Reciprocal  Relations  of  Preacher  and  Hearer  .  .  253 

CHAPTER  XIL 

Liturgical  Cultivation  of  the  Preacher   .  .  .  .296 


\^    PASTOEAL    THEOLOaY. 

CHAPTER  I. 

Definition  of  Pastoral  Theology         .  .  .  .  819 

CHAPTER  II. 
Religious  Character  and  Habits  of  the  Clergyman  .  .     323 

CHAPTER  HI. 
Intellectual  Character  and  Habits  of  the  Clergyman  .  345 

CHAPTER  IV. 
Social  and  Professional  Cliaracter  of  the  Clergyman      .  .     371 

CHAPTER  V. 
Pastoral  Visiting       ......  389 

CHAPTER  VI. 
Catechising  .  .  .  .  .  .  .407 


HOMILETICS. 


CHAPTER    I. 

EELATION    OF  SACRED    ELOQUENCE   TO  BIBLICAL  EXEGESIS. 

The  sources  of  Sacred  Eloquence,  it  is  evident, 
must  lie  deeper  than  those  of  secular  oratory.  That 
address  from  the  Christian  j^ulpit  which,  iu  its  ulti- 
mate results,  has  given  origin  to  all  that  is  best  iu 
human  civilization  aud  hopeful  in  human  destiny, 
must  have  sprung  out  of  an  intuition  totally 
different  from  that  which  is  the  secret  of  secular 
and  civil  oratory.  It  is  conceded  hy  all,  that  elo- 
quence is  the  product  of  ideas;  and  therefore,  in 
endeavoring  to  determine  what  is  the  real  and  solid 
foundation  of  puljpit  oratory,  we  must,  iu  the  outset, 
indicate  the  ransre  of  ideas  and  the  class  of  truths 
from  which  it  derives  both  its  subject-matter  and 
its  inspiration.  These  we  shall  find  in  Divine  reve- 
lation, as  distinguished  from  human  literature.  The 
Scriptures  of  the  Christian  Church,  and  not  the  wri 


2  ho:miletics. 

tings  of  tlie  great  masters  of  secular  letters,  are  the 
fons  et  07'igo  of  sacred  eloquence.  It  will  therefore 
be  tlie  aim  of  this  introductory  chapter  in  a  treatise 
upon  Homiletics,  to  consider  the  influence,  in  or  a- 
torical  respects,  upon  the  preacher,  of  the  thorough 
exegesis  and  mastery  of  the  Word  of  God.  And  in 
order  to  perform  this  task  with  most  success  and 
convincing  power,  it  will  be  necessary  to  make  some 
preliminary  observations  upon  the  nature  of  the 
written  revelation  itself,  and  particularly  upon  the 
relation  in  which  the  human  mind  stands  to  it. 

The  opening  of  one  of  the  most  sagacious  and 
suggestive  of  modern  treatises  in  philosophy  reads  as 
follows :  "  Man,  as  the  minister  and  interpreter  of 
nature,  does  and  understands  as  much  as  his  observa- 
tions on  the  order  of  nature,  either  with  regard  to 
matter  or  to  mind,  permit  him,  and  neither  knows 
nor  is  capable  of  more."^  In  this  dictum  of  Lord 
Bacon,  which  he  lays  down  as  the  corner-stone  of  his 
philosophical  system,  reflecting  and  speculating  man 
is  represented  to  be  an  interpreter.  The  function  of 
the  philosopher  is  not  to  originate  truth,  but  to 
explain  it.  He  is  to  stand  u|)  before  a  universe  of 
matter,  and  a  universe  of  mincl,  and  his  office  is  to 
interrogate  them,  and  hear  what  they  say.  He  is 
not  to  attempt  an  exertion  of  his  own  power  upon 
them  in  order  to  reconstruct  them,  and  thereby  put 
a  meaning  into  them.     He  is  not  to  distort  them, 

*  Bacon  :  Novum  Organum,  Aph.  1. 


ELOQUENCE   AND   EXEGESIS.  3 

by  injectiDg  into  tliem  liis  own  prejudices  and  pre- 
conceptions ;  but  simply  going  up  to  tliem  with,  reve- 
rence and  witli  freedom,  lie  is  to  take  tliem  just  as 
they  are,  and  to  question  tliem  just  as  tliey  stand, 
until  lie  gets  their  answer.  The  spirit  of  a  philoso- 
pher, then,  according  to  this  sagacious  Englishman, 
is  no  other  than  the  spirit  of  an  interpreter.  If  we 
might  employ  his  own  proud  ]3hrase,  "  Francis  Yeru- 
1am  thought"  that  the  great  aim  and  office  of  phi- 
losophy is  hermeneutical.  The  result  of  all  specula- 
tive inquiry  into  the  world  of  matter  and  of  mind, 
according  to  this  wise  and  substantial  thinker,  should 
be  an  exegesis,  an  explanation.  Under  the  impulse 
and  guidance  of  this  theory,  modern  science,  more 
particularly  in  the  sphere  of  material  nature,  has 
made  progress.  That  mse  and  prudent  interroga- 
tion of  nature  which  has  been  so  characteristic  of 
the  last  two  centuries  has  yielded  a  clear  and  loud 
response.  The  world  of  matter  has  replied  to  many 
of  the  questions  that  have  been  put  to  it.  The 
stone  has  cried  out  of  the  wall,  and  the  beam  out  of 
the  timber  has  answered. 

But  if  this  is  true  and  fruitful  in  philosophy,  it 
is  still  more  so  in  theology.  The  duty  and  function 
of  the  theologian  is  most  certainly  that  of  an  inter- 
preter, and  that  alone.  With  yet  more  positiveness 
may  we  adapt  the  phraseology  of  the  opening  sen- 
tence of  the  Novum  Organum,  and  say :  "  Man,  as 
the  minister  and  interpreter  of  revelation,  does  and 
understands  as  much  as  his  observations  on  the 


4  HOMTLETICS. 

order  and  structure  of  revelation  permit  liim,  and 
neither  knows  nor  is  capable  of  more."     For  reve- 
lation is  as  mucb.  the  product  of  the  Divine  intelli- 
gence as  the  worlds  are  the  product  of  the  Divine 
power.      Man   confessedly   did   not    originate   the 
world,  and  neither  did  man  originate  the  Christian 
Scriptures.     The  ultimate  authorship  of  each  alike 
carries  us  back  to  the  Infinite.     For  thous-h  in  the 
propagation  of  the  species,  and  the  sustentation  of 
animal  life  upon  the  planet,  the  creature  oftentimes 
seems  to  have  an  agency  analogous  to  that  of  the 
Creator  himself,  yet  we  well  know  that  all  things 
in  the  material  universe  are  of  God  ultimately ;  so, 
likewise,  though  in  the  production  of  those  docu- 
ments which  make  up  the  canon  of  inspiration, 
many  individual  men  were  employed  with  a  free- 
dom and  spontaneousness  that  looks  like  original 
authorship,  yet  it  Avas  the  infinite  and  all-knowing 
intelligence  of  God  which  is  the  head-spring,  the 
fonsfontium  of  it  alb 

The  attitude,  therefore,  of  the  human  mind 
toward  revelation,  should  be  precisely  the  same  as 
toward  nature.  The  naturalist  does  not  attempt  to 
mould  the  mountains  to  his  patterns ;  and  the  theo- 
logian must  not  strive  to  pre-configure  the  Scrij?- 
tures  to  his  private  opinions.  The  mountain  is  an 
object,  positive,  fixed,  and  entirely  independent  of 
the  eye  that  looks  upon  it ;  and  tliat  mass  of  truth 
which  is  contained  in  the  Christian  Scriptures  is 
also  an  ohject,  positive,  fixed,  and  entirely  independ- 


ELOQUENCE   AND   EXEGESIS.  5 

ent  of  the    individual  mind  that  contemplates  it. 
Tlie  crystalline  liumor   of  tlie  eye  is  confessedly 
passive  in  relation  to  tlie  mountain  mass  tliat  looms 
up  before  it  in  majesty  and  in  glory.     It  receives 
an    impression    and    experiences   a   sensation,  not 
mechanically  or  chemically  indeed,  as  wax  melts 
before  fire,  or  as  an  alkali  effervesces  under  an  acid, 
yet  inevitably,  and  in  accordance  with  the  real  and 
independent   nature   of  the   mountain.      And  the 
moral  mind  of  man,  in  relation  to  the  moral  truth 
of  God  which  is  set  over  a2:ainst  it  in  his  revela- 
tion,  should  in  like  manner  be  recipient,  and  take 
an  impression  that  issues  inevitably  from  the  nature 
and  qualities  of  fixed  and  eternal  truth.     Neither 
in  the  instance  of  the  eye  nor  of  the  mind,  is  the 
function  that  of  authorship  or  origination;  it  is  that 
of  living  recipiency  and  acquiescence.     In  the  pres- 
ence of  both  nature  and  revelation,  man,  as  Lord 
Bacon  phrases  it,  is  a  minister  and  interpreter,  and 
not  a  creator  and  lord. 

The  talent,  then,  which  comj^rehends  the  reve- 
lation of  the  Eternal  Mind,  is  not  creative  but 
exegetical.  The  etymology  of  the  term  exegesis 
implies  a  leading  forth  (^e^y!yEO{.iai)  into  the  light 
of  a  clear  percej)tion,  of  an  idea  that  is  shut  uj)  in 
human  language.  It  supposes  words, — words  that 
are  filled  with  thoughts  that  require  to  be  con- 
ducted from  behind  the  veil  -which  covers  them. 
Exegesis,  therefore,  implies  a  luritteii  word.  It  sup- 
poses a  tcritteii  revelation.     There  can  be  no  inter- 


6  HOMILETICS. 

pretation  unless  thouglit  has  been  vocalized,  and 
fixed  in  outward  symbols.     An  unAvritten  revela- 
tion, confined  to  the  individual  consciousness,  never 
projected  into  language  and  never  taking  a  literary 
form,  could  not  be  an  object  of  critical  examina- 
tion, and  could  not  yield  the  rich,  fruits  of  analysis 
and  contemplation.     Those  theorizers  who  combat 
the  doctrine  of  a  "  book  revelation,"  and  contend 
for  only  an  internal  and  subjective  communication 
from  the  mind  of  God  to  the  mind  of  man,  present 
a  theory  w^hich,  if  it  were  transferred  to  the  sphere 
of  human  literature,  would  bring  all  intellectual 
investigation  and  stimulation  to  a  dead  stop.     If 
all  the  thinking  of  man  were  confined  to  conscious- 
ness ;  if  his  ideas  were  never  expressed  in  language, 
and  written  down  in  a  literature  that  is  the  out- 
standing monmneut  of  what  he  has  felt  and  thought; 
if  v,dthin  the  sphere  of  secular  thinking  man  were 
limited  to  his  isolated  individualism,  and  were  never 
permitted  to  fix  his  eye  and  mind  upon  the  results 
to  which  fellow  minds  had  come ;  the  most  abso- 
lute  stagnation   would  reign   in   the    intellectual 
world.     If,  for  illustration,  we  could  conceive  that 
the  intellect  of  Newton  had  been  able  to  o^o  throuQ:h 
those  mathematical  processes    which  are  now  em- 
bodied in  his  Principia,  without  expressing  them 
in  the  symbols  of  mathematics  and  the  propositions 
of  human  Lo.uo;ua2re;    if  we  could  conceive  of  the 
Principia  as  held  in  his  individual  consciousness 
merely,  and  never  presented  in  an  outward  form  to 


ELOQUENCE   Am)   EXEGESIS.  7 

become  a  xr^i-ia  eg  det  for  all  generations ;  it  is  plain 
tliat  the  name  of  Newton  would  not  be,  as  it  now 
is.  one  of  the  intellectual  forces  and  influences  of  the 
human  race.  All  that  mass  of  pure  science  whicli 
has  been  the  subject-matter  of  mathematical  exe- 
gesis for  two  centuries,  and  which  has  been  the 
living  germ  out  of  which,  by  the  method  of  inter- 
pretation, the  fine  growths  of  modern  mathematics 
have  sprung,  would  have  gone  into  eternity  and 
invisibility  with  the  spirit  of  Newton,  and  "left 
not  a  rack  behind." 

I.  Biblical  Interpretation,  therefore,  postulates  a 
written  word,  and  a  sacred  literature ;  and  in  now 
proceeding  to  notice  some  of  the  oratorical  influ- 
ences that  issue  from  it,  w^e  mention,  in  the  first 
place,  the  originality  which  it  imparts  to  religious 
thinlvinsr  and  discourse.  We  shall  maintain  the 
position,  that  the  sacred  orator  is  quickened  by  the 
analytical  study  of  the  sacred  volume  into  a  freedom, 
freshness,  and  force,  that  are  utterly  beyond  his 
reach  without  it. 

Originality  is  a  term  often  employed,  rarely 
defined,  and  very  often  misunderstood.  It  is  fre- 
quently supposed  to  be  equivalent  to  the  creation 
of  truth.  An  original  mind,  it  is  vulgarly  imagined, 
is  one 'that  gives  expression  to  ideas  and  truths  that 
were  nevfer  heard  of  before,— ideas  and  truths  "  of 
which  the  human  mind  never  had  even  an  intimation 
or  presentiment,  and  which  come  into  it  by  a  mortal 
leap,  abrupt  and  startling,  without  antecedents  and 


8  HOIMILETICS. 

without  premonitions."     But  no  such  originality  as 
this  is  possible  to  a  finite  intelligence.     Such  ab- 
originality  as  this  is  the  prerogative  of  the  Creator 
alone,  and  the  results  of  it  are  a  revelation^  in  the 
technical  and  strict  sense  of  the  term.     Only  God 
can  create  de  nihilOj  and  only  God  can  make  a  com- 
munication of  truth  that  is  absolutely  new.     Ori- 
ginality in  man  is  always  relative,  and  never  abso- 
lute.     Select,  for  illustration,  an  original  thinker 
■\^nthin  the  province  of  philosophy, — select  the  con- 
templative, the  profound,  the  ever  fresh  and  living 
Plato.     Thoughtfully  peruse   his  weighty  and  his 
musical  j^eriods,  and  ask  yourself  whether  all  this 
wisdom  is  the  sheer  make  of  his  intellectual  energy, 
or  whether  it  is  not  rather  an  emanation  and  efilux 
from  a  mental  constitution  which  is  as  much  yours 
as  his.     He  did  not  absolutely  originate  these  first 
truths  of  ethics,  these  necessary  forms  of  logic,  these 
fixed  principles  of  physics.      They  were  inlaid  in 
his  rational  structure  by  a  higher  author,  and  by  an 
absolute   authorship ;   and   his   originality  consists 
solely  in  their  exegesis  and  interpretation.      And 
this  is  the  reason  that,  on  listening  to  his  words,  we 
do  not  seem  to  be  hearing  tones  that  are  wholly 
unknown  and  w^holly  unheard  of.     We  find  an  an- 
swerino-  voice  to  them  in  our  own  mental  and  moral 
constitution.    In  no  contemptuous,  but  in  a  reveren- 
tial and  firm  tone,  every  thinking  person,  even  in 
the  presence  of  the  great  thinkers  of  the  race,  may 
employ  the  language  of  Job^  in  reference  to  self- 


ELOQUENCE   AjSD   EXEGESIS.  9 

evident  truths  and  propositions:  "Lo,  mine  eye 
hatli  seen  all  this,  mine  ear  liath  heard  and  under- 
stood it.  What  ye  know,  the  same  do  I  know 
also;  I  am  not  inferior  nnto  you."  And  these 
great  thinkers  themselves  are  the  first  to  acknowl- 
edge this.  Upon  the  fact  of  a  community  in  reason, 
a  partnership  in  the  common  ideas  of  humanity, 
Plato  himself  founded  his  famous  aro-ument  for  the 
pre-existence  of  the  soul.  The  very  foct  that  every 
human  creature  recocrnizes  the  first  truths  of  science 
and  of  morals  as  no  strange  and  surprising  dogmas, 
but  native  and  familiar,  vrould  imply,  in  his  judg- 
ment, an  earlier  world,  a  golden  time,  when  their 
acquaintance  was  made  under  brighter  skies,  and 
under  happier  omens,  than  here  and  now.  ^ 

Originality,  then,  within  the  sphere  of  a  creature 
and  in  reference  to  a  finite  intelligence,  consists  in 
the  250wer  of  interpretation.  In  its  last  analysis  it  is 
exegesis^ — the  pure,  genial,  and  accurate  exjoosition 
of  an  idea  or  a  truth  already  existing,  already  com- 
municated, already  possessed.  Plato  interprets  his 
own  rational  intelligence ;  but  he  was  not  the  author 
of  that  intelligence.  He  expounds  his  own  mental 
and  moral  ideas;  but  those  ideas  are  the  handi- 
work of  God.  They  are  no  more  his  than  ours. 
We  find  what  he  found,  no  more  and  no  less,  if  he 
has  been  a  truthful  exegete.  The  process,  in  his 
instance  and  that  of  his  reader,  is  simply  that  of 

*  Compare  the  AuTiion's  "Discourses  and  Essays,"  p.  125,  sq. 


10  HOMILETICS. 

eclucatiou  and  elicitation.  Tliere  lias  been  no  cre- 
ation, but  only  a  development ;  no  absolute  author- 
ship, but  only  an  explication.  And  yet  how  fresh 
and  original  has  been  the  mental  process !  The 
same  substantially  in  Plato  and  in  the  thousands  of 
his  scholars ;  and  yet  in  every  single  instance  there 
has  been  all  the  enthusiasm,  all  the  stimulation,  all 
the  ebullient  flow  of  life  and  feeling  that  attends 
the  discovery  of  a  new  continent  or  a  new  star. 

"  Then  feels  he  like  some  watcher  of  the  sides 
When  a  new  planet  swhns  into  his  ken ; 
Or  like  stout  Cortez,  when  with  eagle  eyes 
He  stared  at  the  Pacific,  and  all  his  men 
Looked  at  each  other  with  a  wild  surmise, 
Silent,  upon  a  peak  in  Darien." 

Originality  in  man,  then,  is  not  the  power  of 
making  a  communication  of  truth,  but  of  appre- 
hending one.  Two  great  communications  have 
been  made  to  him, — the  one  in  the  book  of  nature, 
and  the  other  in  the  book  of  revelation.  If  the 
truth  has  been  conveyed  through  the  mental  and 
moral  structure,  if  it  has  been  vsrought  by  the  cre- 
ative hand  into  the  fabric  of  human  nature,  then 
he  is  the  most  ori2:inal  thinker  who  is  most  sue- 
cessful  in  reading  it  just  as  it  reads,  and  expound- 
ing it  just  as  it  stands.  If  the  truth  has  been  com- 
municated by  miracle,  by  incarnation,  and  by  the 
Holy  Ghost;  if  it  has  been  imparted  by  special 
inspiration,  and  lies  before  him  an  objective  and 
written  revelation ;  then  he  is  the  original  thinker 


ELOQUENCE   AND   EXEGESIS.  11 

wlio  is  most  successful  in  its  interpretation, — who  is 
most  accurate  in  analyzing  its  living  elements,  and 
is  most  genial  and  cordial  in  receiving  tliem  into 
his  own  mental  and  moral  beino;. 

These  observations  find  their  enforcement  and 
illustration,  the  instant  we  apply  them  to  the  Chris- 
tian Scriptui'es  and  their  interpretation.  We  have 
ali'eady  noticed  that,  in  respect  to  the  problems  of 
religion,  man  can  originate  nothing,  but  must  take 
what  he  finds  given  to  him  from  the  skies.  Even  if 
revealed  religion  be  rejected,  man  does  not  escape 
from  the  authority  of  fixed  truth,  unless  he  adopt 
atheism  and  an  absolute  licentiousness  of  thought 
and  action.  The  doctrines  of  natural  religion  are 
a  Divine  communication,  as  really  as  those  of  re- 
vealed.^ They  are  as  immutable  in  their  nature, 
and  as  independent  of  man's  will  and  prejudices,  as 
those  of  Christianity  itself.  When  we  wake  u]3  to 
moral  consciousness,  and  begin  to  reflect  upon 
the  principles  of  ethics  that  are  wrought  into  our 
moral  constitution,  we  discover  that  we  are  already 
under  their  domination  and  righteous  despotism. 
We  have  no  oj^tion.     Neither  can  we  alter  them; 

'  Hence,  St.  Paul  employs  the  in  the  constitution  of  the  human 

same  word  (aTzoKaXvnTEraC)  to  de-  si)ii-it.      The  bpyf]  ^£bv  fearfully 

note  the  ultimate  source  of  tlie  apprehended    in    paganism,   and 

truths  of  natural  religion,  that  he  the  ihKaioavv?/  ^eov  known  only  in 

employs  in  reference  to  the  plan  Christendom,  are  both  alike  '  rev- 

of  redemption  itself.     The  intui-  elations,' the  one  being  unwritten 

tive  perception  that  God  will  pun-  and  the  other  written. — See  Rom. 

ish  sin  is,  in  its  last  analysis,  the  i.  17,  18. 
product  of  t!if  Creator  Ilimself 


13  HOMILETICS. 

we  caunot  make  a  liair  of  tliem  white  or  black.  We 
are  compelled  to  take  tliem  exactly  as  they  are 
given.  We  must  be  passive  and  submissive  to 
what  Cud  worth  denominates  the  "immutable  mo- 
rality" which  antedates  all  finite  existence,  and 
which  was  in  the  beginning  with  God.  And  so 
likewise  when  we  pass  from  the  problems  of  natu 
ral  religion  to  those  of  revealed;  when  we  pass 
from  the  question  concerning  human  duty  to  the 
awful  question  concerning  human  salvation,  we 
discover  that  the  principles  upon  which  this  salva- 
tion reposes,  and  the  methods  by  which  it  is  to  be 
accomplished,  are  settled  in  the  heavens.  What  is 
written  is  'written,  and  man  the  sinner,  like  man 
the  moralist,  must  be  recipient  and  submissive  to 
the  communication  that  is  made.  For  the  promises 
of  Christianity  are  more  entirely  dependent  upon 
the  Divine  option  and  volition,  than  are  the  prin- 
ciples of  ethics  and  natural  religion.  The  Deity  is 
necessitated  to  punish  sin,  but  is  under  no  necessity 
of  pardoning  it.  When,  therefore,  the  human  mind 
passes  from  ethics  to  evangelism,  it  is  still  more 
closely  shut  up  to  the  record  which  God  has  given. 
If  it  must  take  morality  just  as  it  is  communicated 
in  reason  and  conscience,  it  must  most  certainly 
take  mercy  on  the  terms  uj)on  which  it  is  offered  in 
the  written  word;  because  these  terms  depend 
solely  u]3on  the  will  and  decision  of  the  pardoning 
power. 

In  this  wise  and  docile  recipiency  of  that  which 


ELOQUENCE   AOT)   EXEGESIS.  13 

is  fixed  and  eternal,  we  find  the  fountain  of  peren- 
nial youth  and  freshness  for  the  sacred  orator.  For 
by  it,  he  is  placed  in  vital  relations  to  all  that  uni- 
verse of  truth  which  is  contained  in  the  Christian 
Scrij^tures.  Think  for  a  moment  of  their  contents. 
Briuo;  to  mind  the  ideas  and  doctrines  which  hano; 
like  a  constellation  in  these  heavens.  Think  of  the 
revelation  made  in  them  concerning  the  trinal  unity 
of  God,  that  infinite  vortex  of  life,  being,  and  bles- 
sedness, to  which  the  meagre  and  narrow  unit  of 
deism  presents  such  a  feeble  contrast.  Think  of 
the  incarnation,  in  which  all  the  plenitude  of  the 
divine  nature  blends,  and  harmonizes,  with  the  win- 
ning helplessness  and  finiteness  of  a  creature.  Think 
of  the  ideas  that  are  involved  in  the  Biblical  account 
of  the  origin  of  man,  his  fall  into  the  abyss  of  moral 
evil,  and  his  recovery  to  innocence,  to  holiness,  and 
to  glor}^.  Think  of  the  kingdom  of  God,  an  idea 
wholly  foreign  to  the  best  of  the  natural  religions 
of  the  world,  with  its  indwelling  energy  of  the 
Divine  Spirit,  and  its  continual  intercourse  with 
the  invisible  and  the  eternal.  Contemplate  these 
neio  ideas  that  have  been  lodj^ed  in  the  conscious- 
ness  of  the  human  race  by  the  Scriptures  of  the 
Old  and  New  Dispensations;  think  of  their  sug- 
gestiveuess,  their  logical  connections,  the  new  light 
which  they  flare  upon  the  nature  and  destiny  of 
man,  the  totally  different  coloring  which  they  throw 
on  the  otherwise  dark  and  terrible  history  of  man 
on  the  globe ;   weigh  this  immense  mass  of  truth 


14  HOMILETIOS. 

and  dogma  in  the  scales  of  a  dispassionate  intelli- 
gence, and  say  if  tlie  mind  of  tlie  preacher  will  not 
])e  filled  witli  fresliness,  witli  force,  and  witli  origi- 
nality, in  proportion  as  it  absorbs  it. 

For,  to  recur  to  our  definition  of  originality,  the 
human  intellect  is  stirred  into  profound  and  genial 
action,  only  as  it  receives  an  impression  from  some- 
thing greater  and  grander  than  itself  If  it  adopts 
the  egotism  of  such  a  theory  as  that  of  Fichte,  for 
example,  and  attempts  to  create  from  within  itself, 
its  action  must  be  spasmodic  and  barren.  To 
employ  the  often  repeated  comparison  of  Bacon,  it 
is  not  the  spider  but  the  bee  that  is  the  truly  origi- 
nal insect.  Only  as  the  sermonizer  and  orator,  by 
a  critical  analysis  of  the  Biblical  words,  and  their 
connections,  saturates  his  mind  with  the  Biblical  ele- 
ments ((TTTot^fia),  and  feeds  upon  revelation  as  the 
insect  feeds  upon  foliage  until  every  cell  and  tissue 
is  colored  with  its  food,  will  he  discourse  with  free- 
dom, suggestiveness,  and  energy. 

The  influence  of  such  familiarity  with  revelation 
is  well  illustrated  by  that  of  the  great  products  of 
unins23ired  literature.  The  effect  of  a  continual  and 
repeated  perusal  of  Homer  in  animating  the  mind 
is  well  known.  It  starts  the  intellect  into  original 
action.  The  Greek  fire  glows  in  these  poems,  and 
kindles  every  thing  it  touches.  Though  the  range 
of  ideas  in  the  Iliad  and  Odyssey  is  cabined,  cribbed, 
and  confined,  compared  with  that  of  a  Dante  or  a 
Sluikspeare,  whose  intuition   has   been  immensely 


ELOQUENCE   AISD   EXEGESIS.  15 

widened  by  the  Cliristian  revelation  under  whicli 
he  lived  and  thought ;  though  the  old  epic  in  which 
the  fall  of  Troy  is  sung  cannot  compare  for  a 
moment  in  breadth,  depth,  and  vastness,  with  the 
Christian  epic  in  which  the  fall  of  man  is  told,  yet 
every  scholar  knows  that  just  in  proportion  as  he 
imbibes  the  ideas  and  spirit  of  this  single  pagan 
poem,  all  lameness  is  banished  from  his  own  ideas, 
and  all  feebleness  from  his  lano^ua2:e.  The  reader 
of  Gibbon's  autobiography  will  notice  in  the  abstract 
which  the  historian  gives  of  his  readings,  that  day 
after  day  the  appointed  task  of  perusing  so  many 
lines  of  the  Iliad  is  recorded  as  having  been  faith- 
fully performed.  And,  moreover,  he  will  observe 
that  the  study  is  done  in  the  light  of  the  Port  Royal 
Greek  Grammar ;  in  the  light  of  a  careful  investi- 
gation and  mastery  of  the  Greek  verb.^  Now,  we 
venture  to  affirm  that  what  there  is  of  energy  in 
the  monotonous  style  of  Gibbon,  and  what  there  is 
of  originality  and  freshness  in  his  naturally  phleg- 
matic and  heavy  understanding,  is  due,  in  no  small 
degree,  to  familiarity^-  with  the  old  bard  of  Chios. 
"We  have  cited  this  as  only  one  example  of  the 
impulse  to  original  action  that  is  started  in  the 
mind,  by  the  simple  exegesis  and  interpretation  of 
one  truly  grand  product  of  the  human  intellect. 
Think  of  a  similar  contact  with  the  Italian  Dante, 
or  the  English  Chaucer,  and  say  whether  originality 

Gibbon  :  Autobiography,  p.  4-i4-,  et  passim. 


16  HOMILETICS. 

is  to  be  acquired  by  a  dead  lift,  or  by  a  genial 
pressure  and  influence. 

Returning  now  to  the  Christian  Scriptures,  we 
claim  that  they  are  the  great  and  transcendent  source 
of  originality  and  power,  for  the  human  intellect. 
The  examples  which  we  have  cited  from  the  range 
of  uninspired  literature  fall  far  short  of  the  reality, 
when  we  pass  to  the  written  revelation  of  God. 
Though  grouped  together  in  the  most  artless  and 
unambitious  manner;  though  the  work  of  divers 
ages  and  different  minds ;  though  showing  a  variety 
and  inequality  that  passes  through  the  whole  scale 
of  composition,  from  the  mere  catalogue  in  the  Book 
of  Chronicles,  to  the  sublime  ode  in  Isaiah  or  the 
Apocalypse;  though,  so  far  as  mere  artistic  form 
and  labored  attempt  at  impression  are  concerned, 
almost  careless  and  indifferent,  nevertheless  the 
body  of  literature  contained  in  the  Hebrew  and 
Greek  Scriptures  has  moved  upon  the  mind  of  man, 
in  his  generations,  as  the  moon  has  moved  upon  the 
sea.     The  influence  has  been  tidal. 

"  Exegesis,"  says  Niebuhr,  "  is  the  fruit  oifinislied 
study."  This  is  a  remark  which  that  great  histo- 
rian makes  in  his  letter  to  a  young  philologist, 
Avhich  deserves  to  be  perused  annually  by  every 
student,  secular  or  sacred.  "  Do  not  read  the  great 
authors  of  classical  antiquity,"  he  remarks,  "  in  order 
to  make  sesthetic  reflections  upon  them,  but  in 
order  to  drink  in  their  sj)irit,  and  fill  your  soul 
with  their  thoughts, — in  order  to  gain  that  by  read- 


ELOQUENCE   AND    EXEGESIS.  17 

ing  wMch  you  would  have  gained  by  reverently 
listening  to  the  discourses  of  great  men.  This  is 
the  philology  which  does  the  soul  good;  and  learned 
investigations,  even  when  we  have  got  so  far  as  to 
be  able  to  make  them,  always  occupy  an  inferior 
place.  We  must  be  fully  masters  of  grammar  (in 
the  ancient  sense);  we  must  acquire  every  branch 
of  antiquarian  knowledge,  as  far  as  lies  in  our  power; 
but  even  if  we  can  make  the  most  brilliant  emen- 
dations, and  explain  the  most  difficult  passages  at 
sight,  all  this  is  nothing,  and  mere  sleight-of  hand, 
if  we  do  not  acquire  the  wisdom  and  sj)iritual 
energy  of  the  great  men  of  antiquity, — think  and  feel 
like  them."^  Precisely  this  is  the  aim  and  influence 
of  Biblical  philology  and  exegesis.  The  theologian 
and  preacher,  by  his  patient  study  of  the  written 
revelation,  must  gain  that  by  reading  which  he 
would  have  gained  by  reverently  listening  to  the 
discom'ses  of  the  prophets,  and  apostles,  and  the 
incarnate  Son  of  God.  And  this  is  the  uniform 
effect  of  close  linguistic  investigation.  The  power 
of  a  grammarian  is  a  vernacular  power.  Turn,  for 
illustration,  to  the  commentaries  of  some  of  the 
Greek  Fathers,  such  as  Theodoret  and  Chrysostom, 
for  example,  and  observe  the  close  and  vivid  contact 
which  is  brought  about  between  their  minds  and 
those  of  the  sacred  writers,  by  reason  of  their  home- 
bred knowledge  of  the  Greek  language.    These  com- 


*  NiEBUiiR :  Lifo  and  Letters,  pp.  42  G,  428. 
2 


18  HOMILETICS. 

mentators  are  not  equal  to  some  of  the  great  Latin 
Fathers,  in  respect  to  the  insight  that  issues  from  a 
profound  dogmatical  comprehension  of  Christian 
truth.  So  far  as  interpretation  rests  upon  the  ana- 
logy of  faith  and  a  comprehensive  system,  Chrysos- 
tom  is  inferior  to  AuOTstine.  But  in  reorard  to 
every  thing  that  depends  upon  the  callida  junctura 
'verhorum^  upon  the  subtle  nexus  of  verbs,  nouns, 
and  particles,  these  exegetes  who  were  "native  and 
to  the  manner  born,"  must  ever  be  the  resort  and 
the  guide  of  the  Biblical  student.^ 

Now,  such  an  exegesis  as  this, — an  exegesis  of 
the  Scriptures  that  is  the  result  of  "  finished  "  study, 
and  that  fills  the  soul  with  the  very  thoughts  and 
spiritual  energy  of  the  holy  men  of  old  who  spake 
as  they  were  moved  by  the  Holy  Ghost, — is  a  well- 
spring  of  originality.  The  influence  of  it  is  stri- 
kingly illustrated  by  a  comparison  of  the  English 
j)ulpit  of  the  sixteenth  and  seventeenth  centuries, 
with  that  of  the  eighteenth.  The  minds  of  Hooker 
and  Howe,  of  Taylor  and  South,  of  Barrow  and 
Bates,  were  thoroughly  imbued  with  the  substance 
and  spirit  of  the  written  revelation.  It  was  an  age 
of  belief,  of  profound  religious  convictions,  of  lin- 
guistic, reverent,  and  contemplative  study  of  the 
word  of  God.  Secular  literature  itself  was  tinc- 
tured and  tinged  with  the  supernaturalism  of  the 

'  This    remark  holds  true   of      Zigabenus,  whom  De  "Wette  and 
that   acute    Greek  commentator      Meyer  so  often  quote, 
of  the  12th  century,  Eutliymius 


ELOQTJElSrCE   AND    EXEGESIS.  19 

Bible.  The  plays  of  Sliakspeare,  nay,  the  licentious 
plays  of  the  old  English  stage,  are  full  of  the  awful 
workings  of  conscience.  If  men  sinned,  they  suffered 
for  it;  if  they  committed  adultery,  they  were  burned 
in  hell-fire  therefor.  This  was  the  ethics,  and  this 
was  the  drama,  of  a  period  for  which  God  was  a 
living  person,  the  Bible  an  inspired  book,  and  the 
future  life  a  solemn  reality.  The  strong  sense  and 
healthy  genius  of  England  had  not  yet  sophisticated 
itself  into  the  denial  of  God's  holiness,  and  God's 
revelation,  and  the  authority  of  the  human  con- 
science. Men  had  not  learned,  as  they  have  since, 
to  rush  into  sin,  and  then  adjust  their  creed  to  their 
passions.  Look,  now,  into  the  sermonizing  and  elo- 
quence of  these  English  divines,  and  feel  the  fresh- 
ness and  freedom  that  stamp  them  instantaneously 
as  original  minds.  They  differ  much  in  style.  Some 
exhibit  an  involved  and  careless  construction ;  others 
a  pellucid  and  rhythmical  flow;  and  one  of  them, 
according  to  De  Quincey,  is  the  only  rhetorician  to 
whom,  in  company  with  Sir  Thomas  Brown  (him- 
self a  reverent  and  a  Biblical  mind),  "  it  has  been 
granted  to  open  the  trumpet-stop  on  the  great 
organ  of  passion."  But  all  alike  are  jDrofound  reli- 
gious thinkers,  and  all  alike  are  suggestive  and 
original  discoursers. 

Pass,  now,  into  the  eighteenth  century,  and  read 
the  discoui'ses  of  Alison  and  Blair.  We  have 
descended  from  the  heights  of  inspired  doctrine, 
towards  the  level  of  natural  religion ;  from  the  incar- 


20  HOMILETICS. 

nation,  the  apostasy,  tlie  redemption,  to  the  truth 
that  virtue  is  right  and  vice  is  wrong,  that  man 
must  be  virtuous,  and  all  will  be  well.  How  tame 
and  unsuggestive  are  these  smooth  commonplaces. 
How  destitute  of  any  enlarging  and  elevating 
influence  upon  a  thoughtful  mind.  How  low  the 
general  range  of  ideas.  And  the  secret  of  the  tor- 
por and  tameness  lies  in  the  fact,  that  these  intel- 
lects had  never  worked  their  way  into  the  deep 
mines  of  revelation,  and  found  the  ore  in  the  matrix. 
It  was  an  a2:e  in  which  Biblical  exeoresis  had  de- 
clined,  and  they  had  experienced  only  the  more 
general  influences  of  the  written  word.  The  living 
elements  themselves,  the  evangelical  dogmas,  had 
never  penetrated  and  moulded  their  thinking. 

And  as  we  look  out  into  this  nineteenth  century, 
we  observe  the  same  fact.  The  only  originality  in 
the  Church  or  out  of  it,  in  sacred  or  in  secular  litera- 
ture, is  founded  in  faith.  "VVe  are  well  aware  that 
the  age  is  fertile,  and  that  a  rank  growth  of  belles- 
lettres  has  sprung  up  diu'ing  the  last  twenty-five 
years  having  its  root  in  unbelief.  But  it  is  a  crop 
of  mushrooms.  There  is  nothing  in  it  all  that  will 
live  one  hundred  years.  Compare  this  collec- 
tion of  skeptical  poems,  novels,  and  essays,  these 
slender  attempts  of  the  modern  naturalism  to  soar 
with  a  feeble  wins;  into  the  hio-h  heaven  of  inven- 
tion,  with  the  unfaltering,  sustained  sweep  of 
Dante,  steeped  in  religion,  and  that,  too,  the  religion 
of  an  intense  supernaturalism ;  or  of  Milton,  whose 


ELOQUENCE   AND   EXEGESIS.  21 

blood  and  brain  were  tins-ed  tlirouoi:li  and  tliroufrb 
with  Hebrew  ideas  and  beliefs.  Compare  tlie  light 
flutter  of  the  current  sentimentalism,  with 


"  the  pride  and  ample  pinion 
That  the  Theban  eagle  bear, 
Sailing  with  supreme  dominion 
Through  the  azure  deep  of  air," 


and  tell  us  where  shall  wisdom  be  found,  and  where 
is  the  place  of  understanding. 

II.  We  pass  from  this  topic,  to  consider  a 
second  effect  of  the  exegesis  and  apprehension  of 
the  Christian  rev^elatiou,  that  bears  yet  more  directly 
upon  the  office  and  functions  of  the  pulpit.  The 
thorough  exegesis  and  comprehension  of  the  writ- 
ten Word  of  God,  endows  the  human  mind  with 
authority. 

"  By  what  authority  doest  thou  these  things  ? 
and  who  gave  thee  this  authority  to  do  these 
things?"  "ss^as  a  question  which  the  chief  priests, 
and  the  scribes,  and  the  elders  put  to  Jesus  Christ. 
If  it  was  a  natural  question  for  them  to  ask  of  the 
Son  of  God,  it  is  certainly  a  natural  question  for  the 
secular,  and  esj^ecially  the  unbelieving,  world  to  ask 
of  the  Christian  herald.  By  what  right,  does  a 
mortal  man  rise  upon  the  rostrum,  and  make  posi- 
tive statements  concerning  the  origin  of  the  human 
race,  the  dark  mysterious  beginnings  of  human  his- 
tory, the  purposes  and  plans  of  the  Infinite  Mind,  and 
conclude  with  announcing  the  alternatives  of  eternal 


22  HOMILETICS. 

salvation  and  eternal  damnation  ?  Witli  respect  to 
these  dark  and  diiScult  problems,  all  men  stand 
npon  a  common  level,  if  divine  revelation  is  thrown 
out  of  tlie  account.  Apart  from  tlie  ligM  j^oured 
upon  tliem  by  a  communication  from  the  Divine 
Mind,  Confucius  and  Socrates  have  as  much  rio-ht 
to  speculate  and  dogmatize,  as  you  or  I.  By  what 
right,  then,  does  that  portion  of  the  world  which 
calls  itself  Christendom,  undertake  to  inform  that 
portion  of  the  world  which  is  called  heathendom, 
concerning  God  and  the  future  life ;  concerning  the 
soul,  its  needs,  its  sorrows,  and  its  doom  ?  What 
authority  has  the  Christian  man  above  that  of 
the  pagan  man,  in  regard  to  the  whole  subject  of 
religion,  and  who  gave  him  this  authority  ?  Why 
does  not  Christendom,  as  it  peers  into  the  darkness 
beyond  the  tomb,  look  reverently  to  Mohammedan- 
ism for  light  ?  Why  does  Christianity  insist  that 
Mohammed  shall  come  to  the  mountain ;  and  why 
does  the  mountain  refuse  to  go  to  Mohammed  ? 
As  matter  of  fact,  the  entire  human  race  is  now 
receiving  its  lessons  in  theology  and  religion,  from 
only  a  portion  of  the  race.  In  the  outset,  this 
portion  which  set  itself  up  as  the  teachers  of  man- 
kind was  only  a  mere  fragment  of  the  sum-total,  a 
mere  handful  of  men  in  a  corner  of  Palestine.  The 
proportion  has  indeed  greatly  altered,  during  the 
eighteen  centuries  that  have  elapsed  since  the  death 
of  Christ ;  but  the  vast  majority  of  mankind  are 
still  pagan.     The  pupils  still  immensely  outnumber 


ELOQUENCE   AND    EXEGESIS.  23 

the  teachers.  By  what  title,  does  a  mere  fraction, 
of  the  equally  rational  and  equally  immoi'tal  masses 
that  crowd  this  planet,  arrogate  to  itself  the  posi- 
tion of  the  tutor,  and  demand  that  the  remaining 
majority  take  the  attitude  of  the  piipil  ?  And,  to 
narrow  the  circle,  by  w^hat  title  does  a  small  class 
of  men  rise  up  in  Christian  pulj)its,  and  profess  to 
im23art  instruction  to  the  large  congregations  of 
their  fellows  and  their  equals,  upon  the  most  mo- 
mentous and  the  most  mysterious  of  themes  ? 

Unless  Christendom  possesses  a  superior  knowl- 
edge, it  has  no  right  *o  instruct  heathendom ;  and 
unless  the  Christian  clergy  are  endowed  with  the 
authority  of  a  special  revelation,  and  can  bring  cre- 
dentials therefor,  they  have  no  right  to  speak  to 
their  fellow-men  upon  the  subjects  of  human  duty 
and  destiny.  The  first  and  indispensable  requisite, 
consequently,  in  both  speculative  theology  and 
practical  homiletics,  is  autlwrity  /  and  this  authority 
must  be  found  in  a  direct  and  special  communica- 
tion from  the  mind  of  God,  or  it  can  be  found 
nowhere.  Throw  the  Scrij^tures  out  of  the  account, 
and  the  whole  human  race  is  upon  a  dead  level. 
No  one  portion  of  it,  no  one  age  or  generation  of  it, 
is  entitled  to  teach  another.  That  clear  command- 
ing tone,  without  which  the  Christian  herald  has 
no  right  to  speak,  and  without  which  the  world 
will  not  erect  its  ears  and  hear,  cannot  issue  from 
ethics  and  natural  religion.  It  must  be  the  impulse 
and  the  vibration  of  the  gospel.  "  I  am  not  ashamed," 


24  HOMILETICS. 

says  St.  Paul,  "  of  tlie  gospel  of  Christ ;  for  it  is  the 
power  of  God."  Divine  revelation,  in  his  definition, 
is  divine  power  ^'  and  power  is  at  the  bottom  of  au- 
thority. Power  generally  is  not  ashamed,  and  needs 
not  to  be.  In  an  age  like  this,  when  force  is  wor- 
shipped, when  the  hero  and  the  titan  are  set  up  as  di- 
vinities, it  will  surely  not  be  disputed  that  where  there 
is  power  there  need  be  no  hesitation  or  timidity ;  and 
that  whoever  is  really  possessed  of  it,  is  entitled  to 
'speak  out  with  a  commanding  and  an  authoritative 
intonation.  By  virtue,  then,  and  only  by  virtue,  of  its 
possession  of  the  living  oracles  of  God,  Christendom 
is  entitled  to  sound  a  trumpet,  and  tell  the  world  in 
all  its  centuries,  and  all  its  grades  of  civilization,  that 
he  that  believeth  shall  be  saved,  and  he  that  believeth 
not  shall  be  damned.  By  virtue  of  his  intuition 
and  mastery  of  inspired  ideas  and  doctrines,  the 
Christian  herald  is  entitled  to  attemj^t 


"  the  height  of  the  great  argument. 
And  justify  the  ways  of  God  to  men." 


1.  In  applying  this  topic  more  particularly  to 
the  position  and  duties  of  the  sermonizer  and 
preacher,  we  remark,  in  the  first  place,  that  the 
close  exegetical  study  of  the  Scriptures  imparts 
a  calm  and  conscious  authority,  by  reducing  the 
whole  body  of  Holy  Writ  to  harmony.  The 
influence  of  doubt  in  respect  to  the  symmetrical 
agreement,  and  self- consistence,  of    the   Bible,  is 


ELOQUENCE   AND   EXEGESIS.  25 

weakening  in  tlie  liigliest  degree.  No  sacred 
orator  can  be  bold  and  commanding  in  his  tone, 
if  jbe  believes,  or  if  he  fears,  that  there  are  fatal 
contradictions  and  irreconcilable  inconsistencies  in 
the  written  revelation.  It  is  for  this  reason,  that 
infidelity  is  now  applying  its  utmost  acuteness 
and  inorenuitv,  to  detect  intrinsic  and  absolute  con- 
tradictions  in  the  sacred  records.  The  four  Gos- 
pels, in  particular,  are  the  field  of  operations.  If 
it  can  be  shown,  if  it  can  be  demonstrated,  that 
these  biographies  of  the  God-man  fatally  conflict 
with  each  other,  then  the  portraiture  of  that  Per- 
sonage who  fills  all  history  as  the  sun  fills  the 
hemisphere,  becomes  a  fancy  sketch,  and  Chris- 
tianity disappears  with  its  Founder. 

Now,  we  are  certain  and  confident  that  the 
careful  and  minute  study  of  the  Evangelists,  in 
the  light  of  grammar,  of  philology,  and  of  history, 
results  in  the  unassailable  conviction  of  their  trust- 
worthiness. The  process  is  one  of  those  profound 
and  unconscious  ones  which  bring  us  to  the  goal 
before  we  are  aware.  The  conviction  that  the 
four  Gospels  are  organically  connected,  and  consti- 
tute one  living  and  perfect  harmony,  cannot  be 
violently  and  quickly  forced  upon  the  mind.  At 
first  sight,  the  objections  and  difficulties  fill  the 
foreground ;  particularly,  when  protruded  and 
pressed  upon  the  notice  by  the  dexterity  of  the 
biased  and  hostile  critic.  But,  as  when  we  look 
upon  a  grand  painting,  in  which  there  is  a  great 


26  HOMILETICS. 

variety,  and  comj^lexity,  and  apparent  contrariety, 
of  elements,  it  requires  some  little  time  for  tlie 
eye  to  settle  gradually,  and  unconsciously,  into 
the  point  from  whicli  tlie  wliole  shapes  itself  into 
harmony  and  beauty,  so  it  requires  wise  delay, 
and  the  slow  penetration  of  scholarship  and  medi- 
tation, to  reach  that  centre  from  which  all  the 
parts  of  the  evangelical  biography  arrange  them- 
selves harmoniously,  and  all  contradiction  disap- 
pears forever.  And  when  this  centre  is  once 
reached,  and  the  intrinsic,  natural,  artless  harmony 
is  once  perceived,  there  is  repose,  and  there  is 
boldness,  and  there  is  authority.  He  w^ho  speaks 
of  Christ  out  of  this  intuition,  speaks  with  free- 
dom, with  enthusiasm,  with  love,  and  with  power. 
Objections  which  at  first  seemed  acute  now  look 
puerile.  The  piece-meal  criticism,  which  like  the 
fly'  scans  only  the  edge  of  a  plinth  in  the  great 
edifice  upon  which  it  crawls,  disappears  under 
a  criticism  that  is  all-comprehending  and  all-sur- 
veying. 

2.  And  similar  to  this,  in  the  second  place,  is 
the  influence  of  a  clear  understanding  of  the  dog- 
matic matter  of  revelation.  This  results  in  a  self- 
consistent  theological  system,  and  this  endows  the 
mind  with  authority.  Say  what  men  may,  it  is 
doctrine  that   moves  the  world.      He  who  takes 

1  u  ^iiy  has  not  man  a  microscopic  eye  ? 
For  this  plain  reason,  man  is  not  a  fly." 
Pope  :   Essay  on  Man,  I.  6. 


ELOQUENCE   AND   EXEGESIS.  27 

no  position  will  not  sway  the  human  intellect. 
Lo2:ical  men,  doo;matic  men  rule  the  world.  Aris- 
totle,  Kant,  Augustine,  Calvin, — these  are  names 
that  instantaneously  suggest  systems  ;  and  systems 
that  are  exact,  solid,  and  maintain  their  place  from 
century  to  century.  And  when  the  system  is  not  a 
mere  product  of  the  human  mind,  like  a  scheme 
of  philosophy  or  a  theory  of  art,  but  is  really  the 
scheme  and  system  of  God  himself  imparted  to  his 
creatures,  and  certified  to  them  by  miracle,  by 
incarnation,  and  by  the  Holy  Ghost, — when  the 
body  of  doctrine  has  a  celestial  origin, — ^it  endows 
the  humble  and  docile  recipient  of  it  with  a  pre- 
ternatural authority.  That  which  is  finite  can 
never  inspire  and  embolden  the  human  soul  like 
that  which  is  infinite.  The  human  mind  is  indeed 
a  grand  and  noble  intelligence,  and  we  are  the 
last  to  disparage  or  vilify  its  products.  We  look 
with  respect  and  veneration  upon  the  great  names 
in  all  the  literatures.  We  exclaim,  with  Hamlet, 
"  How  noble  in  reason  !  in  apprehension  how  like 
a  god !"  But  when  we  are  brought  face  to  face 
with  the  problems  of  religion ;  when  the  unkno^vn 
issues  of  this  existence  press  heavity  upon  the 
apprehensive  soul ;  when  the  vortex  of  eternity 
threatens  to  ino-ulf  the  feeble  immortal ;  how 
destitute  of  authority,  and  certainty,  are  all  the 
utterances  and  communications  of  these  heroes  of 
human  literature.  When  I  rise  into  this  plane  of 
thought,  and  propose   this   class   of    questions,  I 


28  HOMILETICS. 

need  a  voice  from  tlie  open  sky  to  assure  me.  I 
demand  an  authority  tliat  issues  from  Grod  him- 
self, before  I  can  be  certain  and  assured  in  my 
own  mind,  and  still  mor^.  before  I  can  affirm  with 
positiveness  and  power  to  the  minds  of  others. 

It  is  here  that  we  observe  the  difference  be- 
tween the  dogmatism  of  a  philosopher,  and  that 
of  a  theologian ;  between  the  positiveness  of  the 
secular,  and  that  of  the  Christian  mind.  Compare 
Immanuel  Kant  with  John  Calvin.  No  human 
being  has  been  more  successful  than  the  sage  of 
Konigsberg,  in  giving  an  exact  and  transparent 
expression  to  what  he  himself  denominates  "  pure 
reason."  The  crystal  under  his  chemistry  acquires 
a  second  crystallization.  The  rational  intelligence 
of  man,  as  developed  and  expressed  by  him, 
answers  to  the  description  of  wisdom  in  the 
apocryphal  book :  "  She  is  more  mobile  than 
any  motion ;  she  penetrates  and  passes  through 
all  things  by  reason  of  her  pureness."^  But  it  is 
finite  reason;  it  is  human  intelligence  only.  The 
questions  that  are  raised,  and  the  answers  that 
are  given,  pertain  to  a  limited  province.  Within 
this  province,  the  philosopher  is  clear  as  the 
sun,  positive,  and  dogmatic  of  right.  He  knows 
whereof  he  affirms,  and  speaks  with  a  corre- 
sponding authority.  But  when  I  pass  these  limits, 
and  invite  him  to  pass  them,  I  hear  another  tone. 

'  Wisdom,  vii.  24. 


ELOQUENCE  AND   EXEGESIS.  29 

The  positiveness  and  tlie  certainty  disappear,  and 
we  are  both  alike  left  to  querying  and  vague  con- 
jecture. What  can  he  tell  me,  with  confidence 
and  certainty,  concerning  the  interior  and  absolute 
essence  of  God?  Does  the  trinal  unity  dawn 
within  the  hemisphere  of  his  "  pure  reason  ?" 
Does  he  know  the  name  of  the  first  man  ?  Can 
he  describe  to  me  the  origin  of  that  dark  ground 
of  evil  which,  by  his  own  confession,  inheres  in 
every  human  will  ?  Can  he  tell  me,  with  authority 
and  certainty,  when  -the  decaying  body  is  being 
lowered  to  its  resting-place  in  the  heart  of  the 
earth,  that  "all  that  dust  shall  rise?"  Does  he 
know  that  there  is  pity  in  those  stern  and  ethical 
heavens  which  shut  down  like  brass  over  a  guilty 
and  terrified  human  conscience  ?  The  authority 
and  dogmatic  cei'tainty  of  the  philosopher  stop  at 
the  limits  of  his  domain ;  and  it  is  here  that  the 
authority  and  certainty  of  the  theologian  begin. 
Turn  to  the  Institutes  of  the  man  of  Geneva,  and 
observe  the  boldness  and  high  certainty  of  that 
naturally  cautious  and  careful  understanding,  upon 
these  very  themes  which  make  the  man  of  Konigs- 
berg  to  hesitate  and  waver.  Read  those  words 
mth  which  Calvin  closes,  as  with  a  clarion  peal, 
his  great  argument  for  the  necessity  of  the  Reform- 
ation, and  say  whence  come  the  sublime  confidence, 
and  overcoming  energy  :  "  We  know  and  are  verily 
persuaded  that  what  we  preach  is  the  eternal  truth 
of  God.     It  is  our  wish,  and  a  very  natural  one, 


J 


30  HOinLETICS. 

that  our  ministry  might  prove  beneficial  and  salu- 
tary to  the  world ;  but  the  measure  of  success  is 
for  God  to  give,  not  for  us  to  demand.  If  this  is 
what  we  have  deserved  at  the  hands  of  men  whom 
we  have  struggled  to  benefit,  to  be  loaded  with 
calumny,  and  stung  with  ingratitude,  that  men 
should  abandon  success  in  despair,  and  hurry 
along  mth  the  current  to  utter  destruction,  then 
this  is  my  voice  (I  utter  words  worthy  of  the 
Christian  man,  and  let  all  who  are  willing  to  take 
their  stand  by  this  holy  profession  subscribe  to  the 
response),  'Ply  your  fagots.'  But  we  warn  you, 
that  even  in  death  we  shall  become  the  conquerors; 
not  simply  because  we  shall  find,  even  through  the 
fagots,  a  sure  passage  to  that  upper  and  better  life, 
but  because  our  blood  will  germinate  like  precious 
seed,  and  propagate  that  eternal  truth  of  God 
which  is  now  so  scornfully  rejected  by  the  world."^ 
This  is  the  j)ositiveness,  this  is  the  high  celestial 
dogmatism,  that  is  necessitated  by  the  reception 
of  Divine  Kevelation.  There  is  no  option.  There 
may  be  natui'al  timidity ;  there  may  be  the  shrink- 
ing nature  of  the  weeping  prophet ;  but  the 
instant  the  mind  perceives  that  the  Eternal  Intelli- 
gence has  originated  and  communicated  a  series  of 
revelations,  the  instant  the  ear  hears  the  "Thus 
saith  the  Lord,"  a  transformation  takes  place,  and 
human  wcakcass  becomes  immortal  strength. 

*  Caiyvn  i    iTecessitj  of  tlie  Eeformation,  sub  Jine. 


ELOQUENCE  AND  EXEGESIS  31 

"We  have  tlius  considered,  in  a  rapid  manner, 
two  oratorical  influences  and  effects  of  the  appre- 
hension of  revealed  truth.  Originality  and  author- 
ity issue  from  this  source  as  from  no  otlier.  If 
Sacred  Eloquence  is  to  maintain  its  past  command- 
ing position  in  human  histor}^,  and  is  to  exert 
a  paramount  influence  upon  human  destiny,  it 
must  breathe  in,  and  breathe  out  from  every  pore 
and  particle,  the  living  aflSatus  of  inspiration.  By 
this  breath  of  life  it  must  live.  If  the  utterances 
of  the  pulpit  are  to  be  fresh,  spiritual,  and  com- 
manding, the  sacred  orator  must  be  an  exegete. 
Every  discourse  must  be  but  the  elongation  of  a 
text. 

And  certainly  there  never  was  greater  need  of 
originality  and  authority  within  the  province  of 
religion,  than  now.  The  cultivated  unbeliever  is 
fast  settling  down  upon  the  low  commonplaces  of 
ethics  and  natural  religion,  or  else  is  on  his  way  to 
the  arid  sands  of  atheism,  and  all  the  freshness  of 
his  mind  is  being  dried  up.  Rejecting  all  mystery, 
which  is  confessedly  the  parent  and  nurse  of  high 
thinking  and  lofty  feeling ;  rejecting  all  supernatu- 
ralism,  by  w^hich  alone  God  comes  into  quickenino- 
and  personal  contact  with  his  creatures ;  throwing 
out  of  his  creed  all  those  truths  upon  which  Chris- 
tendom rests,  and  without  which  a  Christendom  is 
impossible,  and  reducing  tlie  whole  credenda  and 
agenda  of  man  to  the  merest  and  most  meagre 
minimum, — what  can  he  do  toward  the  impregna- 


32  HOMTLETICS. 

tion  and  fertilizing  of  the  human  mind  ?  Look  at 
the  two  or  three  religious  dogmas,  starved  and 
hunger-bitten,  which  are  left  to  the  human  in- 
telligence after  his  manipulations,  and  tell  us  if 
literature,  and  art,  and  philosophy,  will  be  cha- 
racterized by  originality  if  his  methods  prevail. 
Tell  us  if  pantheism  will  produce  another  Shak- 
speare ;  if  anti-supernaturalism  will  produce  another 
Milton ;  if  a  nerveless,  voluptuous  naturalism  will 
produce  another  Dante.  Unless  the  coming  lit- 
erature of  England  and  America  shall  receive  a 
fresh  impulse  and  inspiration,  from  the  old  Chris- 
tian ideas  which  penetrated  and  enlivened  it  in  the 
days  of  its  gloiy,  the  future  will  witness  the  utter 
decline  and  decay  of  one  of  the  noblest  literatures 
of  the  world.  The  age  of  sophistry,  the  age  of 
pedants,  the  age  of  critics,  the  age  of  elegant  lan- 
guor, will  come  in,  and  the  Anglo-Norman  mind, 
like  the  Greek  and  the  Roman  before  it,  will  give 
place  to  the  bolder  and  more  original  intelligence  of 
a  more  believing  and  solemn  race. 

The  same  remark  is  even  more  true,  when  we 
pass  from  the  wide  domain  of  general  literature,  to 
a  particular  province  in  it,  like  Sacred  Eloquence. 
The  Christian  pulpit,  in  this  age,  is  in  danger  of 
losing  its  originality,  because  it  is  tempted  to  leave 
the  written  revelation,  and  betake  itself  to  lower 
and  uninspired  sources  of  thought.  Listen  to  those 
who  neglect  the  constituent  and  organific  ideas  of 
Christianity, — the   doctrines   of  sin  and  guilt,  of 


ELOQUEIS-CE    AND    EXEGESIS.  33 

grace  and  redemption, — and  who  find  tlieir  themes 
in  that  range  of  truths  which  every  student  sees 
scattered"  over  the  pages  of  Plato  and  Cicero,  of 
Antoninus  and  Seneca,  and  tell  us  if  they  are 
orisrinal  and  stirrino*  homiletes.  The  doctrines  of 
natural  reliGfion  are  differentiated  from  those  of 
revealed,  by  the  fact  that  they  will  not  bear  ever- 
lasting repetition,  and  constant  expansion  and  illus- 
tration. You  cannot  preach  year  after  year  upon 
the  immortality  of  the  soul,  and  the  nature  of  vir- 
tue, and  preserve  the  theme  ever  fresh  and  new. 
There  is  a  limit  in  this  direction  that  cannot  be 
passed  with  safety.  But  it  is  not  so  with  the  dis- 
tinctively Christian  truths.  Even  the  dark,  solemn 
theme  of  human  corruption,  expounded  by  one  who 
has  been  instructed  out  of  the  WTitten  revelation, 
and  the  thronging,  bursting  consciousness  of  his 
own  soul, — even  this  sorrowful  and  abstractly  repel- 
lant  theme,  when  enunciated  in  a  genuinely  Biblical 
manner,  fascinates  the  natural  man  himself  like  the 
serpent's  eye.  Such  a  preacher  is  always  felt  to  be 
original.  Men  never  charge  him  with  tameness 
and  feebleness.  And  still  more  is  this  true  of  that 
other,  and  antithetic,  doctrine  of  the  divine  mercy 
in  the  blood  of  the  God-man.  This  string  may  be 
struck  with  the  plectrum  year  after  year,  century 
after  centuiy,  and  its  vibration  is  ever  resonant  and 
thrilling,  yet  sweet  and  seolian. 

And  certainly  the  age  requires  in  its  religious 

heralds  and  teachers  that  other  characteristic  of 
3 


34  HOMILETICS. 

authority.  If  a  man.  speak  at  all,  lie  must  speak  as 
the  oracles  of  God ;  he  must  sj^eak  oracularly  and 
2:)ositively.  For  the  intellectual  world  is  now  an 
arena  of  contending  ideas  and  systems.  Think  you 
that  all  the  dogmatism  of  the  time  is  within  the 
precincts  of  theology  and  the  Church  ?  Think  you 
that  skepticism  stands  meek  and  hesitating,  like  the 
ass  which  Sterne  describes,  who  seemed  to  invite 
abuse,  and  to  say  to  every  passer-by :  "  Don't  kick 
me,  but  if  you  will  you  may  ?"  No  !  all  ideas,  the 
false  as  well  as  the  true,  all  systems,  the  heretical 
as  well  as  the  orthodox,  are  positive  and  assertory. 
It  is  no  time,  therefore,  for  Christianity, — the  only  sys- 
tem that  has  a  right  to  say  to  the  world, "  Thou  shalt," 
and  "Thou  shalt  not";  the  only  system  that  has  a 
right  to  utter  its  high  and  authoritative,  "  He  that 
believeth  shall  be  saved,  and  he  that  believeth  not 
shall  be  datnned", — it  is  no  time  for  that  absolute 
and  ultimate  religion,  in  and  by  which  this  misera- 
ble and  ruined  race  must  live  or  bear  no  life,  to  be 
deprecatory,  and  "  borrow  leave  to  be." 

If  such,  then,  be  the  relation  existing  between 
Sacred  Eloquence  and  Biblical  Exegesis,  the  Chris- 
tian ministry  ought  to  lay  deep  the  foundations  of  its 
address  to  the  popular  mind,  in  the  understanding 
and  interpretation  of  the  Word  of  God.  The 
proper  function  of  the  preacher  is  to  put  strictly 
revealed  doctrine  into  oratorical  forms  for  popular 
impression,  and  to  imbue  all  discourse  in  the  sanc- 
tuary, and  wpon  the  Sabbath,  with  a  strictly  Bibli- 


ELOQUENCE   AND    EXEGESIS.  35 

cal  spirit.  For  after  all,  it  is  tlie  spirit  of  a  book, 
tlie  spirit  of  an  author,  whicli  is  of  cliief  import- 
ance. Pascal  lias  left  an  instructive  and  quickening 
fragment  upon  the  "  geometrical  spirit."  It  is  the 
spirit  of  demonstration, — that  bent  and  tendency  in 
an  intellectual  person  which  sjDontaneously  inclines 
him  to  define  accurately  whatever  is  capable  of  defi- 
nition, and  to  jirove  irrefragably  whatever  is  capa- 
ble of  proof  AVhoever  possesses  this  spirit  takes 
geometry  with  him  wherever  he  goes.  Of  such  a 
human  mind, — the  mind  of  a  Pascal, — it  may  be 
said,  as  Plato  said  of  the  Eternal  Mind,  it  perpetu- 
ally geometrizes.  And  the  same  is  true  of  the  Bib- 
-ical  spirit.  He  who  has  imbibed  it  from  the  close 
and  penetrating  study  of  the  words,  clauses,  sen- 
tences, paragraphs,  sections  of  the  sacred  volume, 
puts  the  seal  of  the  Eternal  Spirit  upon  every  thing 
that  he  writes,  and  every  thing  that  he  utters.  The 
written  word  of  God  is  not  only  filled  with  a  dis- 
tinctive spirit,  but  it  is  also  dictated  by  an  Eternal 
Spirit.  It  has  a  Spirit  for  its  author,  and  it  has  a 
spirit  as  its  inward  characteristic.  It  is  a  wheel 
within  a  wheel ;  it  is  a  sea  within  a  sea ;  it  is  an 
atmosphere"  within  an  atmosphere.  Spiritual  in  its 
origin,  spiritual  in  its  contents,  and  spiritual  in  all 
its  influences  and  effects,  well  may  it  be  the  sole 
great  aim  of  the  pulpit  orator  to  reach  and  acquire 
the  spirit  of  the  Scriptures.  There  is  no  danger  of 
mysticism  in  such  a  striving ;  and  no  false  spiritual- 
ism will  result  from  it.     Such  an  endeavor  to  drink 


36  HOMILETICS. 

in  the  pure  essence  of  a  merely  human  product 
might  result  in  dreaminess  of  thought  and  feeling. 
The  undue  and  constant  musinn;  of  the  New  Plato- 
nists  upon  the  Platonic  speculations  finally  destroyed 
all  clear  thinking  and  healthy  mental  action.  The 
effect  was  like  that  of  the  forbidden  fruit  upon 
Adam  and  Eve.    They 

"  fancy  that  they  feel 
Divinity  within  them  breeding  wings, 
"Wlierewith  to  scorn  the  earth." 


But  the  wiitten  revelation  is  a  marvellous  combina- 
tion of  the  divine  with  the  human,  of  the  spiritual 
vsdth  the  material,  of  the  reason  with  the  under- 
standing, of  the  heavenly  with  the  earthly.  All 
the  antitheses  are  blended,  and  counterpoise  each 
other,  with  wonderful  harmony ;  so  that  no  human 
mind  will  ever  become  exorbitant  and  exaggerated 
by  an  exclusive  and  absorbing  study  of  it.  Like 
the  ocean,  while  it  has  its  undulations,  and  an  un- 
fathomed  swell  which  no  human  power  can  level,  it 
never  has  the  everlasting  mountains  and  valleys; 
it  never  exhibits  or  produces  extremes. 

He,  then,  whose  public  discourse  is  j^ervaded 
with  the  spirit  of  revelation,  and  who  speaks  as 
the  oracles  of  God,  will  be  eloquent  in  the  high- 
est style.  Truth  will  impart  weight,  and  sincerity 
will  impart  earnestness,  and  feeling  will  impart 
glow,  and  at  times  devout  enthusiasm  will  im- 
part color  and  beauty,  to  his  oratory,  and  he  will 


ELOQUENCE   AISTD   EXEGESIS.  37 

verify  tlie  affirmatiou  wliicli  tlie  most  higlily  edu- 
cated and  tlie  loftiest  of  Englisli  poets  puts  into 
the  moutli  of  tlie  Son  of  God,  in  liis  reply  to  Satan, 
wlio  pleaded  tlie  cause  of  secular  letters  against 
that  of  inspiration : 

"  Their  orators  thou  then  extoll'st  as  those 
The  top  of  eloquence : 
But  herein  to  our  prophets  far  beneath, 
As  men  divinely  taught,  and  better  teaching, 
In  their  majestic  unaffected  style. 
Than  all  the  oratory  of  Greece  and  Eome." 


CHAPTER    II. 

DISTINCTIVE  NATURE    OP    HOMTLETICS,    AND    REASONS    POR 
ITS  CULTIVATION. 

HoMiLETics  is  the  term  tliat  has  been  chosen 
to  denote  the  application  of  the  principles  of 
rhetoric  to  preaching.  It  is  syDonymous,  conse- 
quently, with  Sacred  Rhetoric.  The  derivation  of 
the  word  from  the  Greek  verb  6^l7^eIv  shows  that 
the  primary  purpose  of  the  homily  or  sermon  was 
instruction.  The  fii^t  sermons  were,  undoubtedly, 
much  more  didactic  than  rhetorical  in  their  form 
and  substance.  This  must  have  been  so  for  sev^eral 
reasons.  In  the  first  place,  the  assemblies  to  which 
the  sermon  was  first  addressed  were  more  private 
and  social  in  their  character,  than  the  modern 
congregation.  Christianity  was  in  its  infancy,  and 
had  not  become  an  acknowledged  and  public 
religion ;  and  hence  its  ordinances  and  instructions 
were  isolated  from  those  of  society  at  large.  It 
was  one  of  the  principal  charges  brought  against 
Christianity  by  its  first  opponents,  that  it  was 
unsocial,   exclusive,   and  sectarian.      The    Roman 


J 


NATUKE   OF   HOiULETICS.  39 

comiDlainecl  that  the  Christiau,  so  far  as  religion 
was  concerned,  was  not  an  integral  part  of  the 
state,  but  was  a  morose,  solitary,  and  unpatriotic 
man.^ 

The  first  Christian  cono;re2ration  Leins:  thus 
small,  thus  isolated  and  private,  it  was  natural  that 
the  style  of  address  upon  the  i^art  of  the  preacher 
should  be  more  familiar  than  it  can  be  before  a 
large  audience,  and  upon  a  strictly  public  occasion. 
Hence  the  sermon  in  the  early  history  of  the 
Church  was  much  more  homiletical,  that  is,  con- 
versational, than  rhetorical  in  its  character.  Like 
those  free  and  familiar  lectures  which  the  modern 
preacher  delivers  to  a  limited  audience,  on  the 
evening  of  a  secular  day,  the  first  sermons  possessed 
fewer  of  those  oratorical  elements  which  enter  so 
largely  into  the  discourses  that  are  now  prepared 
for  the  great  congregation  in  the  house  of  public 
worship,  and  on  the  Sabbath,  the  great  public  day 
of  Christendom. 

In  the  second  place,  the  first  sermons  were  natu- 
rally and  properly  more  didactic  than  rhetorical, 
because  the  principal  work  to  which  the  first 
preachers  of  Christianity  were  summoned  was 
instruction.  The  cardinal  doctrines  of  Christianity 
were  not,  as  they  are  no^v,  matters  of  general 
knowledge.      The   public    mind   was   preoccupied 

'Tacitus:  Annalium,  xv.  4-t.     quaia   odio  humani  generis  coii 
Christianorum  multitude  ingcns     victi  suut. 
hand  proiude  in  crimiiio  incendii 


40  nOMILETICS. 

witli  tlie  views  and  notions  of  j^olytlieism,  and 
mth  altogether  false  conceptions  of  the  nature  and 
principles  of  the  Christian  religion ;  and  hence 
there  was  unusual  need,  during  the  first  centuries  of 
the  Church,  to  indoctrinate  the  Greek  and  Roman 
world.  Expository  instruction  was,  consequently, 
the  first  great  business  of  the  Christian  herald, 
coupled  with  an  effort  to  disabuse  the  human 
mind  of  those  errors  to  which  it  was  enslaved 
by  a  false  religious  system.  Christianity  at  first 
was  com]3elled  to  address  itself  to  the  understand- 
ings of  men,  in  order  to  prepare  the  way  for  an 
address  to  their  hearts  and  wills ;  and  hence  its 
first  discourses  were  rather  didactic  than  oratorical. 
And  the  same  remark  holds  true  of  missionary 
preaching  in  the  modern  world.  The  missionary 
repeats  the  process  of  the  primitive  preacher. 
His  audiences  are  not  public,  but  private.  His 
addresses  are  more  conversational  than  oratorical ; 
more  for  purposes  of  instruction  than  of  persuasion. 
From  these  two  causes,  the  sermon  was  originally 
an  instructive  conversation  (o^t/lta)  rather  than  an 
oration. 

But  althousrh  the  relations  of  the  modern 
preacher  are  considerably  different  from  those  of  the 
ancient ;  although  the  Christian  preacher  is  much 
more  a  public  man  than  he  was  at  first,  because 
Christianity  is  the  public  religion  of  the  modern 
world,  and  the  Christian  sabbath  is  its  public  holy 
day,  and  the  Christian  congregation  is  its  public 


NATUEE   OF   nOillLETICS.  41 

religious  assembly ;  altlioiigli  Homiletics  lias  neces- 
sarily become  more  strictly  rhetorical  in  its  char- 
acter because  the  sermon  has  become  more  oratori- 
cal in  its  form  and  style ;  we  must  recognize  and 
acknowledsje  the  fact  that  Sacred  Rhetoric  is  in  its 
own  nature  more  didactic  than  Secular.  With  all 
the  change  in  the  relations  of  Christianity  to 
society  and  to  the  state,  and  with  all  the  corre- 
sponding change  in  the  circumstances  and  position 
of  the  preacher,  it  is  still  true  that  one  very 
important  part  of  his  duty  is  that  of  exegetical 
instruction.  Though  the  modern  world  is,  gen- 
erally speaking,  speculatively  acquainted  with 
the  Christian  system,  and  does  not  need  that 
minute  instruction,  and  that  deliverance  from  the 
errors  of  polytheism,  which  the  pagan  world  re- 
quires, still  the  natural  man  everywhere  and  in  all 
ages  needs  indoctrination.  The  sermon  must  be  a 
preceptive  discourse,  and  the  information  of  the 
mind  must  be  one  of  the  chief  ends  of  Sacred 
Eloquence. 

This  brings  us  to  the  principal  difference  be- 
tween Secular  and  Sacred  Rhetoric.  The  latter 
is  more  didactic  than  the  former.  We  are  speak- 
ing comparatively,  it  will  be  remembered.  We 
would  not  be  understood  as  granting  the  position 
of  some  writei*s  upon  Homiletics,  that  there  is 
a  distinction  in  hind  between  Secular  and  Sacred 
Rhetoric, — that  the  didactic  element  enters  so  largely 
into  the  sermon  that  the  properly  rhetorical  ele- 


42  HOMILETICS. 

ments  are  expelled  from  it,  and  ifc  thus  loses  the 
oratorical  character  altogether.  The  sermon  is  not 
an  essay  or  a  treatise.  It  is  an  address  to  an 
audience,  like  a  secular  oration.  Its  purpose,  like 
that  of  the  secular  oration,  is  to  influence  the 
will  and  conduct  of  the  auditor.  Like  the 
secular  oration,  it  is  a  product  of  all  the  powers 
of  the  human  mind  in  the  unity  of  their  action, 
and  not  of  the  imag^ination  alone,  or  of  the 
understanding  alone ;  and  like  the  secular  oration 
it  addresses  all  the  faculties  of  the  hearer,  ending 
with  a  movement  of  his  will.  The  distinction  be- 
tween Secular  and  Sacred  Rhetoric  is  not  one  of 
kind,  but  of  degree.  In  the  sermon,  there  is  less 
of  the  purely  oratorical  element  than  in  secular 
orations,  because  of  the  greater  need  of  exposition 
and  instruction.  The  sermon  calls  for  more  argu- 
mentation, more  narration,  more  doctrinal  informa- 
tion, than  secular  discourses  contain,  and  hence, 
speaking  comparatively.  Secular  Rhetoric  is  more 
purely  and  highly  rhetorical  than  Homiletics. 

Hence,  as  matter  of  fact,  the  sermon  is  more 
solid  and  weighty  in  its  contents,  more  serious  and 
earnest  in  its  tone,  and  more  sober  in  its  coloring, 
than  the  deliberative,  or  judicial,  or  panegyrical 
oration  of  Secular  Eloquence.  It  is  a  graver  pro- 
duction, less  dazzling  in  its  hues,  less  striking  in 
its  style,  less  oratorical  in  its  general  character. 
Recurring  to  the  distinction  between  the  formal 
and  the  real  sciences,  we  might  say  that  Secular 


NATUEE   OF  HOillLETICS.  43 

Eloquence  partakes  more  of  the  former,  and  Sacred 
Eloquence  more  of  tlie  latter.^ 

With  tills  brief  elucidation  of  tlie  distinctive 
nature  of  Homiletics,  we  proceed  now  to  consider  a 
few  reasons  for  its  cultivation. 

1.  The  first  reason  is  derived  from  the  intrinsic 
dignity  and  importance  of  the  sermon  as  a  species 
of  literature.  For  if  we  have  regard  to  the  subject 
matter  and  the  end  in  view,  the  sacred  oration  is 
the  most  grave  and  weighty  of  all  intellectual 
productions.  The  eternal  salv^ation  of  the  human 
soul,  through  the  presentation  of  divine  truth,  is 
the  end  of  preaching.  The  created  mind  is  never 
employed  so  loftily  and  so  worthily,  as  when  it  is 
bending  all  its  powers,  and  co-working  with  God 
himself,  to  the  attainment  of  this  great  purpose. 
A  discourse  that  accomplishes  this  aim  is  second  to 
no  species  of  authorship,  in  intrinsic  dignity  and 
importance.  Other  species  of  literature  may  decline 
in  interest  and  value  as  the  redemption  of  the 
human  race  advances,  but  this  species  will  steadily 
tend  to  its  culmination.  As  the  human  intellect 
shall  come  more  and  more  under  the  influence  of 
those  great  ideas  which  relate  to  God  and  eternity, 
public  religious  discourse  will  gain  in  power  and 
impressiveness,  because  of  the  immortal  ends  which 
it  has  in  view.  Like  the  Christian  grace  of  charity, 
which  will  outlive  prophecies,  and  tongues,   and 

'  Thebemin's  Rhetoric  (lutroductory  Essay,  p.  35,  s^-.). 


44  HOMTLETICS. 

knowledge  Sacred  Eloquence  will  outlive,  or 
rather  transform  into  its  own  likeness,  all  otlier 
forms  of  literature. 

Not  that  philosophy,  and  poetry,  and  history 
will  cease  to  exist  as  departments  of  intellectual 
effort  so  long  as  the  human  race  continues  in  this 
mode  of  being,  but  they  will  all  take  on  a  more 
solemn  character,  and  assume  a  more  serious  and 
lofty  end,  whereby  they  will  approximate  more  and 
more,  in  spirit  and  influence,  to  the  literature  proper 
of  the  Christian  Church, — to  the  parables  of  our 
Lord,  the  epistles  of  his  apostles,  the  sermons  of  his 
ministers.  "  For  it  is  written :  I  will  destroy  the 
wisdom  of  the  wise,  and  will  bring  to  nothing  the 
understanding  of  the  prudent."  In  this  way,  the 
superior  dignity  and  importance  of  the  sermon  will 
appear,  inasmuch  as  through  the  influence  which  it 
will  have  exerted  upon  the  thinking  of  the  race, 
the  literature  of  the  world  wall  have  become  spirit- 
ualized and  sanctified.  Through  the  preaching  of 
the  Gosj)el,  and  the  leavening  of  the  mind  with 
divine  truth,  we  may  expect  to  see  the  same  great 
end,  the  glory  of  God  in  the  eternal  well-being  of 
man,  set  up  as  the  goal  of  universal  letters. 
Whether,  then,  there  be  poetry  it  may  fail,  whether 
there  be  philosophy  it  may  cease,  whether  there  be 
literature  it  may  vanish  away;  but  the  word  of 
God  liveth  and  abideth  forever.  There  will  be  an 
ever-endui-ing  dignity  and  value  in  that  species  of 
intellectual    productions   whose    great   end   is  the 


NATUEE   OF   HOJnLETICS.  45 

indoctrination  of  the  human  mind  in  the  truths  of 
divine  revelation. 

We  find,  therefore,  in  the  gravity  and  impor- 
tance of  the  sacred  oration,  a  strong  reason  why  the 
homiletic  art  should  be  most  assiduously  cultivated. 
The  philosopher  is  urged  up  to  deep  and  laborious 
study,  by  the  weight  and  solidity  of  his  department. 
He  feels  that  it  is  worthy  of  his  best  intellectual 
efforts,  and  he  is  willing  to  dedicate  his  whole  life 
to  it.  The  poet  adores  his  art  for  its  intrinsic 
nobleness  and  beauty,  and  like  Milton  is  ambitious 
to  glorify  it  by  some  product  that  shall  be  the  most 
"  consummate  act  of  its  author's  fidelity  and  ripeness ; 
the  result  of  all  his  considerate  diligence,  all  his 
midnight  watchings,  and  expense  of  palladian  oil." 
The  historian  spends  long  years  in  building  up, 
from  the  solid  foundation  to  the  light  and  airy  pin- 
nacle, a  structure  that  shall  render  his  own  name 
historic  and  associate  it  with  the  dignity  of  history. 
And  shall  the  sacred  orator  be  less  influenced  than 
these  intellectual  workmen,  by  the  nobleness  and 
worth  of  his  vocation?  Ought  he  not,  like  the 
greatest  of  the  apostolic  preachers,  to  magnify  his 
vocation,  and  feel  all  the  importance  of  the  depart- 
ment, in  which  he  has  been  called  to  labor  with  his 
l)rain  and  with  his  heart  ? 

2.  A  second  reason  for  cultivating  Homiletics 
is  derived  from  the  intrinsic  difficulty  of  producing 
an  excellent  sermon.  In  the  first  place,  there  is 
the  difficulty  which  pertains  to  the  department  of 


46  HOSIILETICS. 

rhetoric  generally,  arising  from  the  fact,  that  in 
order  to  the  production  of  eloquence  all  the  facul- 
ties of  the  mind  must  be  in  oj^eration  together,  and 
concurring  to  an  outward  practical  end.  In  the 
production  of  a  work  of  art,  the  imagination,  as 
a  single  faculty,  is  allowed  to  do  its  perfect  work 
unembarrassed  by  other  faculties.  The  idea  of  the 
Beautiful  is  not  confused  or  obscured  by  a  refer- 
ence to  other  ideas,  such  as  the  True,  the  Useful, 
and  the  Good.  The  productive  agency  in  this  case 
is  single,  uncomplex,  and  exerted  in  one  straight 
unhindered  course.  In  the  production  of  a  purely 
logical  or  speculative  product,  again,  the  theoretic 
reason,  as  a  single  faculty,  is  allowed  to  do  its 
rigorous  work,  unembarrassed  by  either  the  imagi- 
nation or  the  moral  sense.  The  philosoj^hic  essay 
is  a  product  which  contains  but  one  element,  and 
that  the  speculative,  and  hence  is  far  easier  to 
originate,  than  one  in  which  many  dissimilar  ele- 
ments,— speculative  and  practical,  imaginative  and 
moral, — are  mingled,  and  which  must,  moreover,  be 
made  to  amalgamate  with  each  other. 

The  oration,  on  the  other  hand,  whether  secular 
or  sacred,  has  a  far  more  difficult  origin  than  either 
of  the  above-mentioned  productions.  All  the  fac- 
ulties of  understanding,  imagination,  and  feeling, 
must  be  in  exercise  together ;  while  above,  and 
beneath,  and  around,  and  through  them  all,  must 
be  the  agency  of  that  highest  and  most  important 
ot  all  the  human  faculties,  the  will,  the  character, 


NATUEE    OF   HOMILETICS  47 

the  moral  force  of  the  man.  In  the  origination  of 
the  oration,  there  must  be  not  only  the  co-agency 
of  all  the  cognitive,  imaginative  and  pathetic 
powers,  but  the  presence  and  the  presidency  in  and 
through  them  all  of  that  deepest  and  most  central 
power  in  which,  as  the  seat  of  personality  and  of 
character,  they  are  all  rooted  and  grounded.  The 
oration,  in  this  view,  is  not  so  much  a  product  of 
the  man,  as  it  is  the  man  himself, — an  emhodiment 
of  all  his  faculties  and  all  his  processes.^  From  the 
general  character  of  the  department  of  rhetoric,  then, 
and  the  general  nature  of  its  products,  the  origina- 
tion of  an  excellent  sacred  oration  is  exceedingly 
difficult,  and  hence  the  need  of  a  profound  and  philo- 
sophic study  of  Homiletics,  or  the  art  of  Sermonizing. 
In  the  second  place,  the  production  of  the 
sermon  is  a  difficult  work,  because  of  the  nature 
and  extent  of  the  influence  which  it  aims  to  exert. 
The  sermon  is  designed  to  produce  an  effect  upon 
human  character ;  -and  this,  not  upon  its  mere 
superficies,  but  its  inmost  principles.  Unlike  secu- 
lar discourse,  the  sacred  oration  is  not  content 
with  influencing  men  in  regard  to  some  particular 
or  particulars  of  conduct,  but  aims  at  the  whole 
nature  of  the  man.  The  political  orator  is  con- 
tent, if  by  his  effort  he  secures  an  individual  vote 
for  a  single  measure.  The  judicial  orator  is  con- 
tent, if  he  can  obtain  a  favorable  verdict  respecting 

'  Le  style,  c'est  riiommo. — Bcffon. 


48  HOMILETICS. 

the  case  In  hand.  The  sacred  orator,  on  the  other 
hand,  aims  at  the  formation  of  an  entire  character, 
— at  laying  a  foundation  for  an  innumerable  series 
of  particular  actions,  —  or  else  he  endeavors  to 
mould  and  develop  from  the  centre  a  character 
which  is  already  in  existence,  as  when  he  addresses 
the  Church  in  distinction  from  the  conirres^ation. 
K  we  have  regard  to  the  renewal  of  human  nature, 
the  formation  within  the  human  soul  of  entirely 
new  principles  of  action,  it  is  plain  that  the  con- 
struction of  a  discourse  adapted  to  produce  this 
great  effect  involves  many  and  great  difficulties. 
It  is  true,  that  the  first  and  efficient  cause  of  this 
effect  must  he  sought  in  the  special  and  direct 
operation  upon  the  individual  soul  of  a  higher 
Being  than  man.  Yet  it  is  equally  true,  that  the 
secondary  instrumental  cause  of  this  renewal  is 
divine  truth  presented  by  the  preacher.  There 
must,  therefore,  be  an  adaptation  between  the 
cause  and  the  effect,  in  this  case  as  much  as  in 
any  other.  Second  causes  must  be  adapted  to 
the  effect  as  much  as  first  causes.  There  is  a 
mode  of  presenting  divine  truth  which  is  suited 
to  produce  conversion ;  and  there  is  a  mode  which 
is  not  suited  to  this  end.  There  is  a  method  of 
sermonizing  which  is  adapted  to  develop  the 
Christian  character,  and  there  is  a  method  which 
is  not  at  all  adapted  to  this.  Now,  to  produce  a 
discourse  which,  in  all  its  parts  and  properties, 
shall   fall   in   with   the    operations   of  the   Holy 


NATURE   OF   HOMILETICS.  49 

Spirit,  and  of  the  liiimau  spirit  when  under 
divine  influence, — whicli  shall  not  blind  the  mind, 
nor  impede  the  flow  of  the  feelings,  but  shall 
concur  with  all  that  hi2:her  influence  which  is 
bearing  upon  the  sinner  in  the  work  of  regenera- 
tion, or  u23on  the  Chiistian  in  the  horn*  and  pro- 
cess of  sanctification, — to  j^roduce  an  excellent  ser- 
mon is  one  of  the  most  arduous  attempts  of  the 
human  intellect.  To  assert  that  the  attempt  can 
be  a  successful  one  without  study  and  training 
upon  the  part  of  the  preacher,  is  to  deal  differ- 
ently with  the  department  of  Sacred  Rhetoric, 
from  what  we  do  with  other  departments  of 
intellectual  effort.  It  is  to  treat  the  hio-her  and 
eternal  interests  of  men,  with  more  thoughtless- 
ness and  indifference  than  we  do  their  lower 
and  secular  interests.  None, — unless  it  be  those 
half-educated  persons  who  do  not  recognize  the 
distinction  between  science  and  practice,  between 
a  profession  and  a  trade,  and  who  would  anni- 
hilate all  professional  study  and  training, — none, 
unless  it  be  such  as  these,  deny  the  importance 
of  a  thorough  discipline  on  the  part  of  the  jurist 
and  the  civilian.  It  is  acknowledged,  generally, 
that  learning  and  culture  are  requisite  to  the 
production  of  successful  pleading  in  court,  and 
successful  debating  in  the  senate.  And  no  one 
who  seriously  considers  the  depth  and  compre- 
hensiveness of  the  aim  of  a  sermon,  and  takes 
into  account  that  sermonizins:  is  not  an  intermit- 
4 


50  nOMILETICS. 

tent  effort,  "but  a  steady,  uniform  process,  week 
after  week,  and  year  after  year,  will  be  disposed 
to  disparage  or  undervalue  liomiletic  discipline  or 
tlie  liomiletic  art.  Says  one  of  tlie  earliest  and 
pithiest  English  writers  upon  Homiletics :  "  Preacli- 
ers  have  enough  to  do,  and  it  will  take  up  their 
whole  time  to  do  it  well.  This  is  not  an  art 
that  is  soon  learnt,  this  is  not  an  accomplishment 
that  is  easily  gained.  He  that  thinks  otherwise, 
is  as  weak  and  foolish  as  the  man  that  married 
Tully's  widow  (saith  Dio)  to  be  master  of  his 
eloquence."  ^ 

The  difficulty,  in  the  third  place,  of  construct- 
in  o-  an  excellent  sermon  is  clearly  apj)arent,  when 
we  consider  the  nature  of  the  impression  which 
is  souo-ht  to  be  made.  Without  takino;  into 
account  such  characteristics  as  distinctness  and 
depth  of  impression,  and  many  others  that  would 
suggest  themselves,  let  us  seize  upon  a  single 
one, — namely,  permanence  of  impression, — and  by  a/^" 
close  examination  perceive  the  need  of  under- 
standing, both  theoretically  and  practically,  the 
art  of  Sermonizino^. 

The  test  of  excellence  in  a  sermon  is  continu- 
ance of  influence.  By  this,  it  is  not  meant  that 
an  excellent  sermon  produces'  no  more  impression 
at  the  time  of  its  first  delivery  than  afterwards. 
Often  the  vividness  of  a  discourse  is  most   appa- 

'  John  Edwaeds  :  The  Preacher,  Pt.  L,  p.  274. 


:?^ATirEE   OF   nOMILETICS.  51 

rent  at  tlie  time  of  its  origin,  because  it  was 
partly  the  fruit  of  temporary  circumstances,  and 
derived  sometliinGi'  of  its  force  from  time  and 
place.  Yet,  after  this  is  said,  it  is  still  true,  that 
no  sermon  is  truly  excellent  which  does  not  con- 
tain something  of  permanent  value  for  the  human 
head  and  heart.  It  must  have  such  an  idea  or 
proposition  at  the  bottom  of  it,  and  be  arranged 
on  such  a  method,  and  be  filled  up  with  such 
reflections,  and  inspired  with  such  a  spirit,  as 
^vill  make  it  an  object  of  interest  for  any  thought- 
ful mind  in  all  time.  It  is  true,  that  tried  by 
this  test,  many  sermons  would  be  found  want- 
ing,— and  far  more  of  such  sermons  as  draw  mis- 
cellaneous crowds,  and  are  fit  only  to  be  printed 
in  a  newspaper,  than  of  such  as  are  preached  to 
attentive  audiences,  and  are  unknown  save  by  the 
solid  Christian  character  which  they  help  to  origi- 
nate, or  to  cultivate, — it  is  true,  that  tried  by  the 
test  of  permanency  of  impression,  the  sacred,  as 
well  as  the  secular  oration  would  often  be  found 
defective,  and  yet  every  such  discoui'se  ought  to 
be  subjected  to  it.  One  of  the  first  questions  to 
be  asked,  for  purposes  of  criticism,  is  this  question : 
Is  there  in  this  discourse  a  solidity,  and  thoughtful- 
ness,  which  gives  it  more  or  less  of  permanent  value 
for  the  human  mind  ? 

Now  it  is  impossible  that  this  weighty  intel- 
lectual character,  conjoined  as  it  must  be  in  the 
oration   with  a  lively  and  rhetorical  tone,  should 


52  HOMILETICS. 

be  attained   without    a    very  tlioroiigli    discij)line 
on  the  part  of  the  preacher.     The  union  of  such 
sterling,  and  yet  oj^posite,  qualities  as  thoughtful- 
ness   and   energy,  is   the    fruit  of    no    superficial 
education,  the  result  of  no  mere  desultory  efforts. 
The   sacred  orator  needs  not  only  a  general  cul- 
ture, but  a  special  culture  in  his  own  art.     It  is 
not    enough  that   he   be    acquainted  with   those 
leading  departments  in  which  every  educated,  and 
especially   every   professional  man,  is   interested; 
he  must  also  be  master  of  that  specific  art  and 
department,  upon  which  the  clerical  profession  is 
more   immediately   founded.       He   must  be   well 
versed  in  the  principles  and  practice  of  Homiletics. 
Otherwise,  his  sermonizins:   will  be    destitute  of 
both  a  present  and  a  permanent  interest.     If  he 
be  a  man  of  learning  and  of  reflective  habits,  but 
of   no   rhetorical   spirit,    although    his   discourses 
may  be  weighty  in  matter,  and,  as  theological  dis- 
quisitions, very  meritorious,  they  will  not  produce 
the  proper  immediate  effects  of  sacred  eloquence,  and 
neither  will  they  exert  the  permanent  influence  of 
theological  treatises.     They  will  fail  altogether  as 
intellectual  productions.     The  studious,  thoughtful 
mind  especially  needs  the  influence  of  homiletical 
discipline,   in   order   to   prei^are   it   for   the   work 
of   addressing  and  influencing  the   popular   audi- 
ence.     There  is  a  method  of  so    or^-anizinoj    the 
materials  in  the  mind,  of  so  arranging,  and  expand- 
ing, and  illustrating  truth,  as  to  exert  the  imme* 


NATURE   OF   HOMILETICS.  53 

diate  impression  of  rhetoric,  united  with  the  per- 
manent impression  of  logic  and  philosophy.  This 
method  can  be  acquired  only  by  the  study  and  the 
practice  of  the  art  of  Sermonizing. 

3.  A  third  reason  for  cultivatins:  Homiletics  is 
found,  in  the  increasingly  higher  demands  made  by 
the  popular  mind,  upon  its  public  religious  teachers. 

It  is  more  difficult  to  make  a  permanent  popu- 
lar impression  now,  than  it  was  fifty  years  ago. 
The  public  mind  is  more  distracted,  than  it  was 
then.  It  is  addressed  more  frequently,  and  by  a 
greater  variety,  both  of  subjects  and  of  speakers. 
It  is  more  critical  and  fastidious  than  formerly.  It 
is  possessed,  we  will  not  say  of  a  more  thorough 
and  useful  knowledge  on  a  few  sul>jects,  but  of  a 
more  extensive  and  various  information  on  many 
subjects.  The  man  of  the  present  day  knows 
more  of  men  and  things  in  general,  than  his  fore- 
fathers did,  though  j)robably  not  more  of  man  and 
of  some  things  in  particular. 

There  is  more  call,  consequently,  in  the  present 
age,  for  a  sermonizing  that  shall  cover  the  whole 
field  of  human  nature  and  human  acquirements, 
that  shall  contain  a  greater  variety  and  exhibit  a 
gi'eater  compass,  and  that  shall  be  adapted  to  more 
grades  and  capacities.  The  preacher  of  the  present 
day  needs  to  be  a  man  of  wider  culture  than  his 
predecessor,  because  the  boundaries  of  human 
knowledge  have  been  greatly  enlarged,  and  because 
his  auditors  have  come  to  be  acquainted,  some  of 


^ 


54  HOMILETICS. 

tliem  thoronglily  and  some  of  tliem  superficially, 
but  all  of  tliem  in  some  degree,  witli  this  new  and 
constantly  widening  field.  Consider  a  single  sec- 
tion of  rhetoric  like  that  of  metaphor  and  illus- 
tration, and  see  how  much  greater  is  the  stock  of 
materials  now,  than  it  was  previous  to  the  modern 
discoveries  in  natural  science,  and  how  even  the 
popular  mind  has  become  possessed  of  sufficient 
knowledge  in  these  departments,  not  merely  to 
understand  the  orator's  allusions  and  representa- 
tions, but  to  demand  them  of  him.  A  modern 
audience,  though  it  may  not  j^ossess  a  very  exact 
knowledge  of  what  has  been  accomplished  in  mod- 
ern science,  is  yet  possessed  of  sufficient  informa- 
tion to  detect  any  such  ignorance  in  a  public 
speaker,  and  especially  in  the  preacher,  as  shows 
him  to  be  inferior  to  the  educated  class  to  which 
he  belongs,  and  behind  the  j^resent  condition  of 
human  culture  and  knowledge.  It  was  urged  not 
many  years  since,  by  the  classes  of  a  teacher  who 
had  been  distinguished  in  his  day,  and  whose 
instructions  still  exhibited  a  solid  and  real  excel- 
lence that  ought  to  have  overruled  the  objection  in 
this  instance,  that  he  had  not  kept  up  with  the  lit- 
erary and  scientific  movement  of  the  modern  mind ; 
that  his  style  of  presenting,  establishing,  and  illus- 
trating truth  had  become  obsolete,  although  the 
truth  itself  which  he  taught  was  unobjectionable. 
In  proof  of  this,  it  was  affirmed  that  certain 
illustrations   which   were   taken   from   the  astron- 


NATUEE   OF   HOiMILETICS.  55 

omy  that  existed  a  century  ago,  but  which  had 
been  rendered  not  only  incorrect  but  absurd  by 
more  recent  discoveries,  were  still  allowed  to  stand. 
It  was  complained  that  rhetoric,  in  this  instance, 
had  been  vitiated  by  the  telescope.  The  popular 
mind,  also,  is  nice  and  fastidious,  and  will  imme- 
diately detect  any  appearance  of  deficiency  in 
literary  and  scientific  culture  in  the  preacher,  espe- 
cially if  it  affects  his  style  and  diction,  and  will 
give  it  far  more  weight  than  it  is  really  entitled  to. 

But  to  take  a  more  important  part  of  Sacred 
Rhetoric  than  style,  or  diction,  or  illustration,  con- 
sider for  a  moment  the  metliod  and  arrangement  of 
a  sermon,  and  see  what  a  difficult  task  the  popular 
mind  of  the  jDresent  day  imposes  upon  its  public 
religious  teachers. 

The  greatest  difference  between  the  men  of  the 
present  day  and  their  forefathers  consists  in  the 
greater  distinctness,  and  rapidity,  of  their  mental 
processes.  They  are  not  more  serious  and  thought- 
ful than  their  ancestors,  but  they  are  more  vivid, 
animated,  and  direct  in  their  thinking  than  they 
were.  They  are  more  impatient  of  prolixity,  of  a 
loose  method  of  arrangement,  and  of  a  heavy  drag- 
ging movement  in  the  exhibition  of  truth.  Audi- 
ences a  century  ago  would  patiently  listen  to  dis- 
courses of  two  hours  in  length,  and  would  follow 
the  sermonizer  throui^h  a  series  of  divisions  and 
subdivisions  that  would  be  intolerable  to  a  modern 
hearer.    The  human  intellect  seems  to  have  shared 


56  HOMILETICS. 

in  that  increased  rapidity  of  motion  wliicli  Las  been 
imparted  to  matter,  by  tlie  modern  imjorovements 
in  machinery.  The  human  body  is  now  carried 
through  space  at  the  rate  of  a  mile  a  minute,  and 
the  human  mind  seems  to  have  learned  to  keep 
pace  with  this  increase  of  speed.  Mental  operations 
are  on  straight  lines,  like  the  railroad  and  telegraph, 
and  are  far  more  rapid  than  they  once  were.  The 
public  audience  now  craves  a  short  method,  a  dis- 
tinct sharp  statement,  and  a  rapid  and  accelerating 
movement,  upon  the  part  of  its  teachers. 

Now  the  preacher  can  meet  this  demand  suc- 
cessfully, only  by  and  through  a  strong  methodizing 
j)ower.  He  cannot  meet  it  by  mere  brevity.  The 
popular  mind  still  needs  and  craves  instruction,  and, 
impatient  as  it  is  of  dullness,  will  listen  with  more 
pleasure  to  a  discourse  that  possesses  solid  excel- 
lence, though  it  be  tedious  in  its  method  and  some- 
what dull  in  style,  than  to  a  discourse  which  has  no 
merit  but  that  of  shortness.  The  task,  therefore, 
which  the  sacred  orator  of  the  present  day  has  to 
perform,  is  to  compress  the  greatest  possible  amount 
of  matter  into  the  smallest  j)ossible  form,  and  in 
the  most  energetic  possible  manner  Multum  in 
parvo  is  now  the  popular  maxim.  Plurimum  in 
minimo  must  now  be  the  preacher's  maxim.  Hence 
he  must  possess  the  power  of  seizing  instantaneously 
the  strong  points  of  a  subject,  of  fixing  them  immo- 
vably in  a  rigorous  logical  order,  and  of  filling  them 
up  into  a  full  rhetorical  form,  by  such  subordinate 


NATURE  OF  HOMILETICS.  57 

thouglits,  and  trains  of  reflection,  as  will  carry  the 
hearer  along  with  the  greatest  possible  rapidity, 
together  with  the  greatest  possiljle  impression.' 
This  power  of  organizing  united  with  the  other 
2>riucipal  power  of  the  orator,  that  of  amplifying  to 
the  due  extent,  is  imperatively  demanded  of  the 
preacher,  by  the  active,  clear,  driving  mind  of  the 
present  age ;  and  whoever  shall  acquire  it  will  wield 
an  influence  over  the  public,  either  for  good  or  for 
evil,  greater  probably  than  could  be  exerted  by  an 
individual  in  an  age  characterized  by  slower  mental 
processes. 

But  is  such  an  ability  as  this  a  thing  of  spon- 
taneous origin  ?  Will  it  be  likely  to  be  possessed 
by  an  indolent,  or  an  uneducated  mind  ?  Any  one, 
who  will  reflect  a  moment,  will  perceive  that  even 
a  fine  poetic  or  artistic  talent  would  be  far  more 
likely  "  to  come  by  nature,"  and  without  culture, 
than  this  fundamental  ability  of  the  orator.  In 
these  first  instances,  much  depends  upon  the  im- 
pulses and  gifts  of  genius.  There  is  much  of  spon- 
taneity in  the  poetic  and  artistic  processes.  But  a 
powerful  methodizing  ability  implies  severe  tasking 
of  the  intellect,  a  severe  exercise  of  its  faculties, 


*  "Eeason  and  argument  must  care  that  ho  always  speak  good 

bo  made  use  of  by  the  preacher,  sense,  and  arguo  closely.    Nothing 

and  tho  more  of  these  the  better,  that  comes  from  him  is  to  be  raw 

But   the   closer    this  powder    is  and  indigested,  but  all  must  be 

ranwied,  the  greater  execution  it  well-ripened     by     judgment." — 

will  do.    The  sum  of  this  head  is  Jonx  Edwakus.     The  Preacher, 

this:  that  a  preacher  is  to  take  Pt.  I.,  p.  127. 


58  HOMILETICS. 

whereby  it  acquires  tlie  power  of  seizing  the  main 
points  of  a  subject  with  the  certainty  of  an  instinct, 
and  then  of  holding  them  with  the  strength  of  a 
vice, — and  all  this  too,  while  the  feelings  and  the 
imagination,  the  rhetorical  powers  of  the  soul,  are 
fillino;  out  and  clothina;  the  structure  with  the 
vitality,  and  warmth,  and  beauty  of  a  living  thing. 
This  ]30wer  of  quickly  and  densely  methodizing  can 
be  attained  only  by  diligent,  and  23ersevering  disci- 
pline ;  and  hence  it  should  be  kept  constantly  before 
the  eye  of  the  preacher  as  an  aim,  from  the  begin- 
ning to  the  end  of  his  educational  and  professional 
career.  He  cannot  meet  the  demands  which  the 
public  will  make  upon  him  as  its  religious  teacher, 
unless  he  acquires  something  of  this  talent ;  and 
he  may  be  certain  that  in  proportion  as  he  does 
acquire  and  employ  it,  he  will  be  able  to  convey  the 
greatest  possible  amount  of  instruction  in  the  short- 
est possible  space,  and,  what  is  of  equal  importance 
for  the  orator's  j)urpose,  he  will  be  able  to  produce 
the  strongest  possible  impression  in  the  shortest 
possible  amount  of  time. 


CHAPTER    III. 

FUNDAMENTAL  PROPERTIES  OP   STYLE. 

The  fundamental  properties  of  good  discourse 
are  as  distinct,  and  distinguisliable,  as  tliose  of 
matter.  Many  secondary  qualities  enter  into  it, 
but  its  primary  and  indispensable  characteristics 
are  reducible  to  three:  viz.,  ])lainness^  fovce^  and 
heauty.  We  propose,  in  this  chapter,  to  define  and 
illustrate  these  essential  properties  of  style;  and 
while  the  analysis  will  be  founded  in  the  general 
principles  of  rhetoric  and  oratoiy,  it  will  also  have 
a  special  reference  to  sacred  eloquence,  and  the 
wants  of  the  pulpit. 

1.  It  is  agreed  among  all  writers  upon  rhetoric, 
that  the  first  property  in  style  is  that  by  virtue  of 
which  it  is  iutellisfible.  The  understanding:  is  the 
avenue  to  the  man.  No  one  is  aftected  by  truth 
who  does  not  apprehend  it.  Discourse  must,  there- 
fore, first  of  all  be  ])lain.  This  property  was  termed 
perspicuitas^  by  the  Latin  rhetoricians.  It  is  trans- 
parency in  discourse,  as  the  etymology  denotes. 
The  word  hd^yEia,  which   the   Greek  rhetoricians 


60  HOMILETICS. 

employed  to  mark  this  same  cliaracteristic,  signifies 
distinctness  of  outline.  The  adjective  ha^yrig  is 
applied  by  Homer  to  the  gods,  when  actually  ap- 
pearing to  human  vision  in  their  own  bright  forms ; 
when,  like  Apollo,  they  broke  through  the  dim 
ether  that  ordinarily  veiled  them  from  mortal 
eyes,  and  stood  out  on  the  edge  of  the  horizon  dis- 
tinctly defined,  radiant,  and  splendid.^  Vividness 
seems  to  have  been  the  ruling  conception  for  the 
Greek,  in  this  property  of  style,  and  transparency 
for  the  Latin.  The  English  and  French  rhetori- 
cians have  transferred  the  Latin  ])ers;picuitas^  to 
designate  this  quality  of  intelligibility  in  discourse. 
The  Germans  have  not  transferred  the  Latin  word, 
because  the  remarkable  flexibility  of  their  language 
relieves  them  from  the  necessity  of  transferring 
words  from  other  languages,  but  they  have  coined 
one  (Durchsichtigkeit)  in  their  own  mint,  which 
agrees  in  signification  precisely  with  the  Latin ^<?r- 
sjncuitas.  These  facts  evince  that  the  Modern  mind 
is  inclined,  with  the  Latin,  to  compare  the  property 
of  intelligibility  in  style  to  a  clear  pellucid  medium ; 
to  crystal,  or  glass,  that  permits  the  rays  of  light  to 
go  through,  and  thus  permits  the  human  eye  to  see 
through. 

While,   however,   the  attention   is   fixed  upon 
this  conception  of  transparency,  and  the  property 

'  'Af£t  yap  TO  ndpog  ye  Oeoi  (j>aivovTai  hapyelg 
'K/i'iv,  evf  ipdo/xtv  ayaiOieiTag  EKardfifiag. 

Odys.  vii.  201,  202. 


PEOPEETEES    OF   STYLE.  61 

under  consideration  is  denominated  perspicuity,  in 
the  rhetorical  nomenclature,  it  is  important  not  to 
lose  sight  of  that  other  conception  of  distinctness, 
or  vividness,  which  was  the  leading  one  for  the 
Greek  mind.  Style  is  not  only  a  medium;  it  is 
also  a  form.  It  is  not  only  translucent  and  trans- 
parent, like  the  undefined  and  all-pervading  atmos- 
phere; it  also  has  definite  outlines,  like  a  single 
object.  Style  is  not  only  clear  like  the  light ;  it  is 
rotund  like  the  sun.  While,  therefore,  the  concep- 
tion of  perspicuity  of  medium  is  retained,  there 
should  also  be  combined  with  it  the  conception  of 
fulness  of  outline,  and  vividness  of  impression,  so  as 
to  secure  a  comprehensive,  and  all-including  idea 
of  that  first  fundamental  property  of  style  which 
renders  it  intelligible. 

Inasmuch  as  modern  writers  upon  rhetoric  have 
generally  followed  the  Latin  rhetoricians,  and  have 
discussed  the  subject  almost  exclusively  under  the 
conception  of  transparency,  and  the  title  of  perspi- 
cuity, there  is  special  reason  for  solicitude,  lest  the 
Greek  conception  of  fulness  of  form  and  definite- 
ness  of  outline  be  lost  out  of  sight.  Moreover,  close 
reflection  upon  the  nature  of  the  case  will  show, 
that  the  Greek  mind  in  this,  as  in  most  other  in- 
stances, was  more  philosophical  than  the  Latin. 
It  seized  upon  a  very  profound  and  essential  charac- 
teristic. It  is  not  enough  that  thouorhts  be  seen 
through  a  clear  medium ;  they  must  be  seen  in  a 
distinct   shape.     It   is   not   enough  that  truth  be 


62  HOMILETICS. 

visible  in  a  clear  pure  air ;  it  must  also  stand  out 
in  tliat  air,  a  single,  well-defined  object.  Tlie  at- 
mosphere must  not  only  be  crystalline  and  spark- 
ling, but  tlie  tbings  in  it  must  be  bounded  and  de- 
fined by  sliarply-cut  lines.  There  may  be  perspi- 
cuity without  distinctness ;  especially,  without  that 
vivid  distinctness  which  is  implied  in  the  Greek 
ha^yeia.  A  style  may  be  as  transparent  as  water, 
and  yet  the  thoughts  be  destitute  of  boldness  and 
individuality.  Such  a  style  cannot  be  charged 
with  obscurity,  and  yet  it  does  not  set  truth  before 
the  mind  of  the  reader  or  hearer,  in  a  striking  and 
impressive  manner.  Mere  isolated  j)erspicuity  is  a 
negative  quality ;  it  furnishes  a  good  medium  of 
vision,  but  it  does  not  present  any  distinct  object 
of  vision.  Distinctness  of  outline,  on  the  other 
hand,  is  a  positive  quality.  It  implies  a  vigorous 
action  of  the  mind  upon  the  truth,  whereby  it  is 
moulded  and  shaped ;  whereby  it  is  cut  and  chiseled 
like  a  statue  ;  whereby  it  is  made  to  assume  a  sub- 
stantial and  well-defined  form  which  smites  upon 
the  eye,  and  which  the  eye  can  take  in. 

Without  discussing  these  two  conceptions  fur- 
ther,— a  discussion  which,  we  would  remark  in 
passing,  is  most  interesting,  leading  as  it  does 
to  a  consideration  of  the  differences  between  the 
mental  constitution  of  different  nations,  as  dis- 
played in  their  languages, — we  proceed  to  a  more 
particular  examination  of  that  fundamental  -^vo^- 
erty  in  style  which   renders   it   intelligible.     We 


PE0PEETIE3   OF   STYLE.  63 

denominate  it  plcmmes-s.  A  thing  is  plain  {plami-s)^ 
when  it  is  laid  out  open  and  smooth,  upon  a  level 
surface.  An  object  is  in  plain  sight,  when  the 
form  and  shape  of  it  are  distinctly  visible.  Chau- 
cer, in  his  Canterbury  Tales,  makes  the  franklin, 
the  English  freeholder  of  his  day,  to  say,  when 
called  upon  for  his  story, 

"  I  lerned  never  rhetorike  certain. 
Thing  that  I  speke,  it  mote  be  bare  and  plain." 

This  quotation  shows  that  in  Chaucer's  time  rhetoric 
was  the  opposite  of  a  lucid  and  distinct  presenta- 
tion of  truth.  In  his  age,  it  had  become  exces- 
sively artificial  in  its  principles,  and  altogether 
mechanical  in  its  applications.  Hence  the  plain, 
clear-headed  Englishman,  whose  story  turns  out 
to  be  told  with  a  simplicity,  and  perspicuity,  and 
raciness,  that  renders  it  truly  eloquent,  supposed 
that  it  must  necessarily  be  faulty  in  style  ;  because 
his  own  good  sense,  and  keen  eye,  made  it  impos- 
sible for  him  to  discourse  in  the  affected  and  false 
rhetoric  of  the  schools  of  that  day.  For  this 
plainness  of  style  is  the  product  of  sagacity,  and 
keenness.  A  sagacious  understanding  always 
speaks  in  plain  terms.  A  keen  vision  describes 
like  an  eye-witness. 

There  is  no  characteristic  more  impoi,'tant  to 
the  preacher  than  this,  and  none  which  ought  to 
be  more  earnestly  coveted  by  him.  Sermons  should 
be  plain.     The  thoughts  ^vhich  the  religious  teacher 


64  nOMILETICS. 

presents  to  the  common  mind  sLoiild  go  straight  to 
the  understanding.  Eveiy  thing  that  covers  up 
and  envelopes  the  truth  should  be  stripped  off 
from  it,  so  that  the  bare  reality  may  be  seen. 
There  is  jprodigious  power  in  this  plainness  of 
presentation.  It  is  the  power  of  actual  contact.  A 
plain  writer,  or  speaker,  makes  the  truth  and  the 
mind  impinge  upon  each  other.  When  the  style 
is  plain,  the  mind  of  the  hearer  experiences  the 
sensation  of  being  touched ;  and  this  sensation  is 
always  impressive,  for  a  man  starts  when  he  is 
touched. 

Fine  examples  of  this  property  are  found  in 
the  style  of  John  Locke,  and  Thomas  Hobbs.  We 
mention  these  writers,  because  plainness  is  their 
dominant  characteristic.  They  w^ere  both  of  them 
philosophers  of  the  senses,  rather  than  of  the  rea- 
son and  the  spirit.  Hence  their  excellencies,  and 
hence  their  defects.  They  are  not  to  be  especially 
recommended  for  those  other  properties  of  style 
which  spring  out  of  a  more  profound,  and  spiritual 
way  of  thinking,  —  such  as  living  energy,  and 
ingrained  beauty,  —  but  for  j^ure  perspicuous 
address  to  the  understanding,  they  have  never 
been  excelled.  Trying  to  find  every  thing  in  the 
senses,  to  convert  all  the  mental  processes  ulti- 
mately into  sensation,  it  is  not  surprising  that 
whatever  is  exhibited  by  them  stands  out  palpable, 
and  tano-ible.  Thou2:ht  seems  to  have  become 
material,  and  to  strike  u^dou  the  understanding  like 


PEOPERTIES    OF   STYLE.  65 

matter  itself.  ''  You  Scotchmen,"  said  Edward 
Irving  to  Chalmers,  "  would  handle  an  idea  as  a 
butcher  handles  an  ox."^  Whether  this  is  true 
of  the  Scotch  mind  we  will  not  affirm,  but  it  is 
certainly  true  of  writers  like  Locke  and  Hobbs. 
Their  thoughts  can  be  seen,  handled,  and  felt. 

The  'Wi'itings  of  archdeacon  Paley,  also,  furnish 
fine  examples  of  the  property  we  are  considering. 
His  was  one  of  the  most  sairacious  minds  in  Ens-lish 
literary  history ;  eminently  characterized  by  w^hat 
Locke  denominates  "large  round-about  sense." 
There  was  no  mysticism  in  his  intellectual  charac- 
ter. Indeed,  his  affinities  for  the  spiritual,  in  either 
philosophy  or  religion,  were  not  so  strong  as  they 
oucrht  to  have  been.  The  defects  in  his  ethical  and 
theological  systems  are  traceable  to  this.  Still, 
upon  subjects  that  did  not  call  for  a  highly  pro- 
found and  spiritual  mode  of  contemplation,  upon 
subjects  that  foil  pro2:)erly  within  the  range  of  the 
senses  and  the  understanding,  he  was  perfectly  at 
home,  and  always  discourses  with  a  significant 
plainness  that  renders  him  a  model  for  the  preacher, 
so  far  as  this  characteristic  is  concerned. 

Consider  the  following  paragraph  from  his 
Natural  Theology,  in  which  he  disposes  of  the 
theory  of  creation  by  develoj)ment,  as  a  specimen 
of  pure  plainness  in  presenting  thoughts.  "  Anoth- 
er system  which  has  lately  been  brought  forward, 

'IIanna:  Life  of  Chalmers,  III.  1G8. 


66  HOMILETICS. 

and  witli  mucli  ingenuity,  is  tliat  of  ajypetencies. 
The  princii:>le,  and  the  short  account,  of  the  theory, 
is  this.  Pieces  of  soft,  ductile  matter,  being  endued 
with  propensities  or  appetencies  for  particular 
actions,  would,  by  continual  endeavors  carried  on 
through  a  long  series  of  generations,  work  them- 
selves gradually  into  suitable  forms ;  and  at  length 
acquire,  though  perhaps  by  obscure  and  almost 
imperceptible  improvements,  an  organization  fitted 
to  the  action  which  their  respective  propensities 
led  them  to  exert.  A  piece  of  animated  matter, 
for  example,  that  was  endued  with  a  propensity  to 
fiy^  though  ever  so  shapeless,  though  no  other  we 
will  suppose  than  a  round  ball  to  begin  with,  would, 
in  a  course  of  ages,  if  not  in  a  million  of  years  per- 
haps in  a  hundred  million  of  years  (for  our  theo- 
rists, having  eternity  to  disjDOse  of,  are  never  sparing 
in  time),  acquire  loings.  The  same  tendency  to 
locomotion,  in  an  aquatic  animal,  or  rather  in  an 
animated  lump  which  might  happen  to  be  sur- 
rounded by  water,  would  end  in  the  production  of 
fins ;  in  a  living  substance  confined  to  the  solid 
earth,  would  put  out  legs  and  feet ;  or,  if  it  took  a 
different  turn,  would  break  the  body  into  ringlets, 
and  conclude  by  craivling  upon  the  ground."^ 
What  plainness  and  pertinency  in  style  and  plirase- 
ology  are  here.  How  easy  of  comprehension  are 
the  thoughts,  and   yet  with  what  directness  and 

^Palet:  ISTatural  Theology,  Ch.  sxiii. 


PE0PEETIE3    OF   STYLE.  67 

effect  do  they  strike  the  understanding.  The  truth 
comes  into  actual  contact  with  the  mind.  The 
statement  of  the  false  theory  is  so  thorough,  and 
so  plain  because  it  is  thorough,  that  it  becomes  the 
refutation.  The  mind  that  reads,  or  hears,  such 
discourse  is  affected  with  the  sensation  of  weight, 
density,  and  solidity;  as  we  have  said  before,  it  is 
impinged  upon. 

The  preacher  should  toil  after  this  property 
of  style,  as  he  would  toil  after  virtue  itself.  He 
should  constantly  strive,  first  of  all,  to  exhibit  his 
thoughts  plainly.  Whether  he  shall  add.  force  to 
plainness,  and  beauty  to  force,  are  matters  to  be 
considered  afterwards.  Let  him  in  the  first  place 
be2:in  at  the  befrinnino;,  and  do  the  first  thins^. 
Endeavors  after  force,  elegance,  and  beauty,  ^\'ill 
be  likely  to  succeed,  provided  this  first  fundamental 
in  discourse  is  attained,  and  they  will  be  sure  to 
fail  if  it  is  not. 

The  preacher,  at  the  present  time,  is  liable  to 
temptation  in  respect  to  the  property  of  style  under 
consideration,  because  it  is  not  a  showy  prop- 
erty. The  public  is  too  eager  after  striking  exter- 
nals, for  its  own  good.  It  demands  brilliancy 
before  plainness,  without  suflicient  regard  for  that 
basis  of  strong  sense  which  must  ever  support  this 
quality,  in  order  that  it  may  have  true  value.  The 
preacher  is,  consequently,  tempted,  to  yield  to  this 
false  taste  of  the  ill-educated,  and  to  become  like 
the  public.     The  form  soon  outruns  the  substance. 


68  nomLETics. 

He  i^ays  more  and  more  attention  to  tlie  expression, 
and  less  and  less  to  the  thoncflit,  and  desrenerates 
into  a  pretentious  and  glittering  declaimer. 

Now,  there  is  nothing  that  will  prevent  a 
preacher  from  falling  into  this  false  manner,  but  a 
determination  to  be  plain;  a  determination,  whether 
he  does  any  thing  else  or  not,  to  bring  the  truth 
into  contact  with  the  human  understanding.  In 
the  midst  of  all  this  clamor  for  fine  writing  and 
florid  style,  the  preacher  should  be  a  resolute  man, 
and  dare  to  be  a  j)lain  writer.  It  is  the  doctrine  of 
one  of  the  best  theorizers  upon  rhetoric,  that  elo- 
quence is  a  virtue.^  The  theory  is  corroborated  by 
the  subject  under  discussion ;  for  it  is  easy  to  see 
that  in  respect  to  that  fundamental  property  of 
style  which  renders  it  intelligible,  a  very  strong  xoiU^ 
a  very  high  cliaractei\  is  needed  in  the  pulpit  orator, 
in  order  to  practise  this  self-denial,  and  also  to  bring 
the  popular  mind  up  to  it. 

Again,  the  preacher  must  make  this  property  of 
style  a  matter  of  theory,  and  a  matter  of  conscience. 
He  must  distinctly  perceive  and  acknowledge  to  his 
own  mind,  that  plainness  is  t^ie,  foundation  of  style; 
that  the  true  theory  of  eloquence  imposes  this 
proj^erty  upon  the  orator,  as  the  very  first  one  to  be 
acquired.  He  must  feel  that  he  cannot  conscien- 
tiously pass  by,  or  neglect,  this  characteristic ;  that 
the  interests   of  truth,  and   of  the   human   soul, 

^  Theremin  :  Elociuenco  a  "Virtue. 


PEOPEPvTIES    OF   STYLE.  69 

imperatively  require  of  Mm  that  he  be  plain-spoken, 
even  if  he  is  nothing  more.  Under  the  pressure  of 
these  two, — a  correct  theory  of  eloquence  and  a 
sober  conscience, — the  preacher  vsrill  be  likely  to 
determine  to  be  plain.  This  determination  will 
affect  his  whole  sermonizing.  It  will  appear  in  the 
structure  of  the  plan,  casting  out  of  it  every  thing 
that  does  not  belono;  to  a  clear  and  clean  method. 
It  will  appear  in  the  composition  and  manner,  in  a 
stripping,  flaying  hatred  of  circumlocutions,  and  of 
all  unnecessary  ornament.  The  preacher  whose 
head  is  right,  and  whose  conscience  is  right,  will 
soon  come  to  possess  a  love  for  this  plainness.  He 
will  not  be  able  to  read  authors  who  do  not  under- 
stand themselves.  He  will  be  impatient  with  a 
public  speaker  who  does  not  distinctly  know  what 
he  is  saying.  He  will  be  interested  in  any  book, 
and  in  any  discoui'se,  which  sets  forth  plain  truth. 
Still  another  means  of  acquiring  this  pro2)erty 
of  style  is  found  in  the  cultivation  of  what  is 
termed,  in  common  parlance,  common  sense.  Com- 
mon sense  is  that  innate  sagacity  of  the  understand- 
ing which  detects  truth  by  a  sort  of  instinct,  and 
which,  for  this  very  reason,  is  dissatisfied  with 
any  thing  short  of  the  truth.  An  instinct  of  any 
kind  cannot  be  deceived,  and  it  cannot  be  put  off 
with  appearances  and  pretences.  It  is  discontented 
and  restless,  until  it  meets  its  correlative  object. 
The  young  swan  is  uneasy,  until  it  finds  the  ele- 
ment it  has  never  yet  seen ;  then 


70  nOMILETICS. 

"with  arched  neck, 
Between  lier  white  wings  mantling  proudly,  rows 
ller  state  with  oarj  feet." 

Througli  all  nature,  aud  all  mind,  the  existence  of 
an  instinctive  intelligence  presupposes  a  correspond- 
ing object,  in  respect  to  wLicli  tlie  instinct  cannot 
be  deceived,  and  without  whicli  it  is  unsatisfied. 

Now  this  common  sense  of  mankind  is  an 
instinctive  aj)petency  for  truth,  and  it  cannot 
be  met  with  any  thing  short  of  the  pure  real- 
ity. Even  a  sophisticated  mind  is  caught  by 
plain  utterances.  The  man  who  has  spoiled  his 
tastes  and  sympathies,  by  an  artificial  and  showy 
cultivation,  is  nevertheless  struck  by  the  vigor  and 
raciness  of  plain  sense.  In  the  phrase  of  Horace, 
thouo'li  lie  has  driven  nature  out  of  his  under- 
standing  with,  a  fork,  she  yet  returns  when  truth 
appears.  And  this  is  the  liold  which  a  plain 
speaker  lias  upon  an  aiidience  of  false  tastes,  and 
false  refinement.  There  is  an  instinctive  sagacity 
in  man  which  needs  this  plainness  of  presentation, 
and  which  craves  it,  and  is  satisfied  with  it.  It  is 
by  the  cultivation  of  this  common  sense,  this 
native  sagaciousness  of  the  human  understanding, 
that  the  preacher  is  to  acquire  the  property  in 
style  that  corresponds  to  it.  Let  him  always  seek, 
first  of  all,  an  open  and  transparent  view  of  a 
subject.  Let  him  pass  by  all  superficial  qualities, 
and  aim  at  the  substance.  Let  him  gratify  and 
cultivate  his  common  sense,  by  a  knowledge  that  is 


PEOPEKTTES   OF   STYLE.  71 

tlioroitgh  as  for  as  it  goes.  .  Let  liiin  content  himself 
witli  no  dim  and  obscure  apprehensions. 

A  fourth  aid,  in  the  acquisition  of  a  plain  style 
of  discourse,  is  subtlety  of  mind.  It  is  imjDortant  to 
distinguish  subtlety,  from  mere  acuteness.  A  subtle 
mind  perceives  the  interior  connection  or  contradic- 
tion, while  a  merely  acute  mind  perceives  the  exte- 
rior only.  Hence,  acuteness  by  itself  leads  to  hair- 
splitting; than  which  nothing  is  more  abhorrent 
to  the  common  sense  of  mankind.  Subtlety  is 
a  profound  talent  which  takes  its  distinctions  in 
the  very  heart  of  a  subject,  and  sees  into  its  inner 
structure  and  fibre.  Subtlety,  therefore,  is  an  ally 
to  sagacity,  and  contributes  greatly  to  that  dis- 
tinctness and  plainness  in  thought,  which  results 
in  plainness  and  vividness  in  language.  This 
talent  aids  in  separating  the  non-essentials  from 
the  essentials  of  truth,  so  that  only  the  leading 
and  impressive  characteristics  of  a  subject  may  be 
exhibited  to  the  common  mind. 

In  instancing  Locke,  Hobbs,  and  Paley,  as  ex- 
amples of  plainness  in  style,  we  directed  attention 
to  the  philosophic  ground  of  the  j^roperty.  "VVe 
found  it  in  the  disposition  to  found  all  knowledge 
upon  sensation,  in  distinction  from  conception.  A 
mind  which  strongly  desires  to  know  every  thing 
by  the  mode  of  sensation,  is  one  whose  statements 
are  always  perspicuous.  A  writer  or  speaker,  there- 
fore, who  incessantly  strives  to  impart  a  conscious 
knowledge  to  his  hearers  or  readers,  must,  of  neces- 


72  HOMILETICS. 

sity,  be  lucid,  because  consciousness  is  internal 
sensation.  And  tlie  2:)roperty  tlius  originating  will 
contain  both  of  the  characteristics,  to  which  we 
alluded  in  the  opening  of  this  chaj^ter.  It  will 
combine  the  Latin  persjyiGuitas^  with  the  Greek 
hd^ysia.  It  will  not  only  be  transparent,  but 
vivid. 

This  quality  in  style,  we  have  remarked,  re- 
quires force  of  character  in  the  orator.  He  must 
be  determined  to  be  so  intelligible,  that  the  mind 
of  the  hearer  cannot  fail  to  understand  him.  He 
must  coirvpel  the  hearer  to  understand.  He  must 
force  his  way  into  consciousness,  by  the  most 
significant,  the  most  direct,  the  very  plainest 
address  to  his  cognitive  powers.  The  title  of  one 
of  the  philosophical  tracts  of  Fichte  reads  thus : 
"An  account  clear  as  the  sun,  of  the  real  nature 
of  my  philosophy ;  or,  an  attempt  to  compel  the 
reader  to  understand."^  The  title  corresponds  to 
the  contents ;  for  the  tract  is  one  of  the  plainest 
productions,  of  one  of  the  clearest  heads  that  ever 
lived.  This  is  the  temper  for  the  orator,  as  well  as 
for  the  philosopher.  Let  the  preacher,  whether  he 
is  master  of  any  other  properties  of  style,  and 
before  troubling  himself  about  them,  be  clear  as 
the  sun  in  his  presentation  of  truth,  and  then  he 
will  compel  men  to  understand. 

*  "  Sonnenklarer  Bericlit  an  ten  Pliilosopliie,  ein  Vcrsucli,  die 
das  groszero  Publikum  liber  Leser  ziun  Verstchcn  zu  zwin- 
das  eigentiiclie  Wesen  der  neues-      gen." 


PE0PERTIE3    OF   STYLE.  73 

2.  The  second  property  of  style  wliicli  should 
receive  attention  is  force.  This  characteristic  in 
discourse  renders  it  penetrative.  Plainness  is 
more  external  in  its  relations  to  the  mind;  force 
is  more  internal.  The  former  is  of  the  nature  of 
an  exhibition;  the  latter  is  of  the  nature  of  an 
inspiration,  and  a  permeation.  While,  however, 
this  is  the  general  distinction  between  the  two, 
it  would  not  be  j^roper  to  call  plainness  a  super- 
ficial property,  and  neither  should  we  confine  force 
to  the  depths.  No  man  is  plain  unless  he  sees  the 
truth,  and  no  man  sees  the  truth  who  does  not 
look  beyond  its  exterior;  neither  is  any  man  forci- 
ble whose  contemplation  never  comes  up  to  the 
surface,  but  who  contents  himself  with  a  mystical 
intuition.  Force  is  power  manifested;  power 
streaming  out  in  all  directions,  and  from  every 
pore  of  the  mind. 

And  this  brings  us  to  the  first  source,  and 
essential  characteristic,  of  true  force  in  style.  It 
originates  in  truth  itself,  and  partakes  of  its  nature ; 
it  does  not  spring  ultimately  from  the  energy  of 
the  human  mind,  but  from  the  power  of  ideas 
and  principles.  We  shall  consider  this  fact,  first 
in  its  more  general  aspects  as  pertaining  to  philoso- 
phy, and  then  in  reference  to  the  rhetorical  topics 
under  consideration. 

Speaking  generally,  then,  power  in  the  finite 
mind  is  derived,  not  from  the  mind  itself,  but  from 
the  objective  world  of  truths  and  facts  to  which  it 


74  nojiiLETics. 

is  correlated.  For  tlie  finite  mind  is  a  created 
thing,  and  all  created  tilings  are  dependent.  It 
is  tlie  prerogative  of  the  Infinite  alone,  to  derive 
its  energy  from  the  depths  of  its  own  being.  God 
has  power,  as  he  has  life,  in  himself,  and  therefore 
he  does  not  sustain  the  relation  of  a  dependent 
individual  to  an  objective  universe.  He  is  self- 
sufficient,  and  independent  of  all  objects.  Man's 
power,  on  the  contrary,  is  conditioned  upon  the 
relation  which  he  sustains  to  that  which  is  other 
than  himself,  greater  than  himself,  and  higher  than 
himself.  He  cannot  draw  upon  his  own  isolated 
being,  as  the  ultimate  source  of  power,  because  his 
own  being  is  not  self-sufficient.  His  power  lies, 
therefore,  in  that  oljectlve  world  of  truth  and  of 
being:,  over  ao;ainst  which  he  stands  as  a  finite  and 
dependent  subject.  In  simple  and  common  phrase- 
ology, which  so  often,  however,  contains  the  highest 
philosophic  truth,  man's  strength  is  in  God,  and 
the  mind's  stren2:th  is  in  truth. 

The  fact  here  stated,  and  the  principle  upon 
which  it  is  based,  are  of  general  application,  and 
the  worst  errors  in  theory  and  practice  have  re- 
sulted from  its  being  denied  or  forgotten.  The 
efficient  power  of  the  human  intellect  results  not 
from  spinning  out  its  own  notions  and  figments, 
but  from  contemplating  those  objective  and  eternal 
ideas,  to  which  it  is  pre-conformed  by  its  rational 
structure.  If  the  human  mind,  by  a  hard,  convul- 
sive effort  analogous  to  the  dead  lift  in  mechanics, 


PEOPEETIES    OF   STYLE.  75 

attempts  to  create  tLoiiglit  and  feeling,  ^vithout  any 
contemplation ;  if  it  attempts  to  tliink  and  to  feel, 
without  beholding  the  proper  objects  of  thought 
and  feeling ;  it  fails  of  necessity.  The  mind  cannot 
think  successfully,  without  an  ol)ject  of  thought, 
and  the  heart  cannot  feel  strongly  and  truly,  without 
an  object  of  feeling.  There  can  be  no  manifesta- 
tion of  power  therefore,  and  no  force  in  the  finite 
mind,  excej)t  as  it  has  been  nourished,  stimulated 
and  strengthened  by  an  object  other  than  itself. 

The  history  of  philosoj)hical  speculation  teaches 
no  truth  more  plain  or  important  than  this,  namely, 
that  insulation,  isolation,  and  suljective  processes 
generally,  are  destructive  of  all  energy  and  vitality 
in  the  created  mind,  while  communion  ^vith  real 
and  solid  verities  joromotes  both.  Take,  for  ex- 
ample, the  systems  of  idealism  in  philosophy. 
These  proceed  upon  the  hyj)othesis  that  tlie  truth 
lies  ultimately  in  the  subject,  and  not  in  the  object; 
that,  in  reality,  there  is  no  object  except  what  the 
mind  makes  for  itself;  that  we  reach  truth  by 
isolating  the  intellect  from  all  external  realities, 
and  simply  creating  from  within.  The  mental 
processes,  upon  this  theory,  become  speculative 
instead  of  contemplative.  The  mental  products, 
upon  this  theor}^,  are  pure  figments,  the  manufac- 
tures of  the  human  mind,  and  have  no  more  abso- 
lute reality  than  a  brain-image.  All  such  thinking 
is  destitute  of  true  force  and  vitality,  because  it  is 
exercised  by  the  mind  in  insulation,  and  isolation, 


T6  nOMILETICS. 

from  the  world  of  outward  trutli  and  beinor. 
Tliere  is  mental  action  enough,  but  no  intuition. 
The  mind  sees  nothing,  but  images  every  thing. 
The  intellect  spins  with  great  intensity  upon  its 
own  axis,  but  it  makes  no  other  movement.  There 
is  incessant  motion,  but  no  progress. 

This  abstract  discussion  might  be  prolonged, 
but  sufficient  has  been  said  to  justify,  and  show 
the  grounds  of  the  position  with  which  we  started, 
namely,  that  the  power  of  the  human  mind  issues 
ultimately  from  the  truth  and  reality  which  it 
contemplates,  and  that  no  finite  mind  can  be 
energetic  in  its  manifestations,  that  does  not  first 
behold  objective  truth.  All  attempts  to  be  force- 
ful by  mere  speculation,  by  an  intellectual  activity 
that  falls  short  of  a  direct  intuition  of  an  objective 
reality,  must  fail.  And  this,  because  the  human 
mind  is  rather  a  capacity  than  a  self-sufficient  ful- 
ness. It  was  made  to  receive  truth  into  itself,  and 
not  to  orio-inate  it  out  of  itself  The  human  mind 
is  recipient  in  its  nature,  and  not  creative ;  it  be- 
holds truth,  but  it  does  not  make  it. 

What,  now,  is  the  application  of  these  princi- 
ples to  sacred  eloquence?  What  connection  has 
this  philosophic  theory  with  the  matter  of  style  in 
the  preacher?  We  shall  be  able  to  answer  this 
question,  by  considering  the  fact  that  the  written 
revelation  stands  in  the  same  relation  to  the  sacred 
orator,  that  the  world  of  nature  does  to  the  philoso- 
[)iier.    The  Bible  is  something  ohjectivc  to  the  human 


PEOPEETLES    OF   STYLE.  7Y 

mind,  and  not  a  mass  of  subjective  thinking  wliicli 
human  reason  lias  ori2:inated.  Revelation  is  not  a 
i:)articular  phase  or  development  of  the  finite  intel- 
lect, like  the  origination  of  a  new  form  of  govern- 
ment, or  a  new  school  of  i^hilosophy.  It  is  not  one 
fold  of  the  varied  unfolding  of  the  human  mind,  and 
of  the  same  piece  with  it.  On  the  contrary,  it  is 
divine  wisdom  given  to  man,  out  and  out,  to  be 
received  by  him,  and  taken  up  into  his  mental 
structure,  for  purposes  of  religious  renovation  and 
growth.  Human  reason,  therefore,  is  the  subject, 
or  the  knowing  agent,  and  the  Scriptures  are  the 
object,  or  the  thing  to  be  known. 

All  true  power,  consequently,  in  the  sacred  ora- 
tor, springs  from  this  body  of  objective  verity.  It 
is  not  by  a  speculative,  but  by  a  Biblical  j)rocess, 
that  he  is  to  make  a  powerful  impression  upon  the 
popular  mind.  The  neglect  of  revelation,  and  an 
endeavor  to  spin  out  matter  from  his  own  brain,  by 
processes  of  ratiocination,  must  result  in  feeble  dis- 
course. The  oratorical  power  of  the  preacher  de- 
pends upon  his  recipiency ;  upon  his  contemplation 
of  those  ideas  and  doctrines  which  the  Supreme 
Mind  has  communicated  to  the  created  and  depen- 
dent spirit;  upon  his  clearly  beholding  them,  and 
receiving!;  throuQ-h  this  intuition  a  fund  of  knowledo-e, 
and  of  force,  of  which  he  is  naturally  destitute. 

Hence,  the  preacher's  first  duty,  in  respect  to  the 
property  of  style  under  consideration,  is  to  render 
himself  a  Biblical  student.  The  term  is  not  employed 


78  HOMILETICS. 

liere  in  its  narrower  signification,  to  denote  one  wlio 
is  learned  in  tlie  literary  externals  of  the  Bible,  and 
nothing  more.  A  genuine  Biblical  student  is  both 
an  exeo;ete,  and  a  doo-matic  theolos-ian.  He  is  one 
whose  mind  is  continually  receiving  the  whole  body 
of  Holy  Writ  into  itself  in  a  living  and  genial  way, 
and  who,  for  this  reason,  is  becoming  more  and  more 
energetic  in  his  methods  of  contemj^lation,  and 
more  and  more  forcible  in  his  modes  of  presentation. 
A  truly  mighty  sacred  orator  is  "mighty  in  the 
Scriptures^  By  this,  it  is  not  meant  that  a  preacher 
whose  memory  is  tenacious,  and  holds  a  great  num- 
ber of  texts  which  he  can  repeat  readily,  is  neces- 
sarily a  powerful  orator.  Excessive  quotation  of 
Scripture  is  as  injurious  to  true  living  force  in  a  ser- 
mon, as  pertinent  and  choice  quotation  is  conducive 
to  it.  Scripture  should  not  lie  in  the  preacher's 
mind  in  the  form  of  congregated  atoms,  but  of  liv- 
ing, salient  energies.  True  Biblical  knowledge  is 
dynamic,  and  not  atomic.  There  is  no  better  word 
to  denote  its  nature,  than  the  word  imbue.  The 
mind,  by  long-continued  contemplation  of  revela- 
tion, is  steeped  in  Divine  wisdom,  and  saturated 
with  it. 

Now,  such  a  knowledge  of  the  Scriptures  as  this 
imparts  power  to  the  sacred  orator,  which  manifests 
itself  in  force  of  style,  for  the  following  reasons.  In 
the  first  place,  revealed  truth  is  not  speculative,  but 
intuitional  and  contemplative.  There  is  not  a  sin- 
gle abstraction  in  the  Scriptures.     The  Bible  is  a 


PEOPERTIES    OF   STYLE.  79 

revelation  of  actual  facts,  and  practical  doctrines. 
When,  consequently,  tlie  action  of  tlie  preaclier's 
mind  is  that  of  simply  belioldiug  facts,  and  simply 
contemplating  doctrines,  it  strengthens  instead  of 
exhausting  itself.  If  the  sermonizing  process  were 
purely  speculative ;  if  the  preacher  were  called  upon, 
as  he  is  on  the  rationalistic  theory,  to  make  a  reve- 
lation instead  of  proclaiming  one ;  the  inherent  in- 
sufficiency of  the  finite  intellect  would  soon  appear. 
Rationalism,  therefore, — the  theory  that  all  revela- 
tion must  be  subjective,  the  j^roduction  of  the  hu- 
man reason, — is  the  worst  of  all  theories  for  the 
sacred  orator.  It  forces  him  to  seek  his  materials 
where  they  cannot  be  found.  More  tyrannical  than 
the  Egyptian  taskmaster,  it  compels  him  to  make 
bricks,  not  only  without  straw,  but  without  clay. 
The  command  of  God  is  otherwise.  "  Preach  the 
preaching  that  I  bid  thee ;  behold  these  focts  and 
these  truths,  which  have  an  existence  and  reality 
independent  of  the  individual  mind ;  look  at  them 
steadily  and  long,  until  their  meaning  is  seen  and 
their  power  felt ;  and  then  simply  proclaim  them, 
simply  preach  them."  The  preacher  is  a  herald,  and 
his  function  is  j^roclamation.  In  this  way,  the  ideas 
Avhich  he  presents  to  his  fellow-men  augment,  instead 
of  diminishing  his  strength.  He  gives  no  faster 
than  he  receives.  lie  simply  suffers  divine  truth, 
which  is  never  feeble  and  never  fails,  to  pass  through 
his  mind,  as  a  medium  of  communication,  to  the 
minds  of  his  fellow-men. 


80  HOJIILETICS. 

In  the  second  place,  tliis  knowledge  and  recep- 
tion of  the  Bible  as  an  objective  revelation  imparts 
power  to  the  preacher's  mind,  and  force  to  his  style, 
because  Biblical  truth  is  more  living  and  energetic 
than  any  other  species.  A  full  discussion  of  this 
position  would  carry  us  over  an  immense  expanse. 
The  field,  moreover,  has  been  of  late  so  much 
ploughed  and  worked,  that  its  fertility  is  somewhat 
impaired.  During  the  last  ten  years,  the  ministry 
itself  has  been  too  much  occupied  with  eulogizing 
the  Scriptures.  All  mere  panegyrics,  as  Swift  has 
said,  contain  an  infusion  of  poppy.  It  would  be  bet- 
ter, for  a  while  at  least,  to  cease  these  attempts  to 
render  the  sun  luminous.  It  would  be  better,  if  the 
ministry  would  so  imbue  themselves  with  the  Bible 
itself,  and  would  so  reproduce  it  in  their  preaching, 
that  the  endeavor  to  prove  it  to  be  a  powerful  book 
would  be  a  palpable  and  tedious  superfluity. 

While,  however,  there  is  little  need  of  the 
preacher's  proving  to  the  popular  mind,  that  revealed 
truth  is  highly  energizing  in  its  nature  and  influ- 
ence, there  is  perhaps  all  the  more  need  that  he 
prove  it  to  his  own  mind.  Even  while  he  is  for- 
mally establishing  this  position  to  his  audience,  he 
may  be  the  greatest  unbeliever  of  them  all.  Indeed, 
that  preacher  is  most  liable  to  degenerate  into  a  mere 
eulogist  of  the  Bible,  w^ho  finds  little  interest  for  his 
mind,  and  his  heart,  in  its  distinsruishinor  doctrines. 
The  man  whose  whole  soul  is  intensely  Biblical,  the 
man  into  whose  intellectual  and  moral  texture  the 


PROPERTIES    OF   STYLE.  81 

substance  of  revelation  Las  been  woven,  tlie  man  in 
wliom  the  written  Word  Las  become  incarnate, — this 
man  is  not  the  one  to  Lyperbolize  and  elocutionize 
about  tLe  Scriptures.  It  is  the  preacher  who  harps 
most  upon  this  string,  who  most  needs  to  understand 
the  note  he  is  sounding;. 

While,  therefore,  he  says  little  about  it,  the 
sacred  orator  should  really  know  and  feel,  that 
revealed  truth  is  the  most  profoundly  energizing  in- 
fluence which  his  mind  can  come  under.  He  should 
find  the  hiding-place  of  power,  in  the  revealed 
ideas  of  God's  personality  and  mercy,  and  man's 
responsibility  and  guilt.  In  proportion  as  his  mind 
becomes  Biblical  in  its  conceptions  upon  these  two 
subjects,  will  he  be  an  intense  preacher,  and  a  living 
preacher,  and  a  powerful  preacher.  But  if,  instead 
of  contemplating  the  view  presented  in  the  written 
Word,  of  the  character  of  God  and  man,  he  attempts 
to  reach  the  truth  upon  these  themes  by  a  merely 
speculative  process,  he  will  fall  either  into  panthe- 
ism or  deism.  And  neither  of  these  schemes  is 
compatible  with  any  vital,  and  powerful,  address  to 
men  upon  religious  subjects.  Saying  nothing  of  the 
influence  of  pantheistic  and  rationalizing  methods 
upon  moral  and  religious  character,  it  is  indisputa- 
ble that  they  are  the  death  of  eloquence.  Neither 
naturalism  nor  rationalism  has  ever  thrilled  the 
common  mind,  from  the  rostrum.  There  cannot  be, 
and  as  matter  of  fact  there  never  has  been,  any 
vivid  and  electrical  discourse  in  the  Christian  pulpit, 
6 


82  HOMILETICS. 

wh'en  the  preaclier  has  denied,  or  doubted,  the  truth 
of  the  revealed  re2')resentations  of  God's  nature  and 
man's  character.  On  the  contrary,  all  the  high  and 
commanding  eloquence  of  the  Christian  Church  has 
sprung  out  of  an  intuition  like  that  of  Paul  and 
Luther, — a  mode  of  conceiving  and  speaking  of  God, 
and  man,  and  their  mutual  relations,  that  resulted 
entirely  from  the  study  of  the  Hebrew  and  Greek 
Scriptures. 

Having  directed  attention  to  that  theory  of 
realism  in  philosophy  which  leads  to  the  contem- 
plation of  an  actual  object,  and  is  opposed  to  all 
merely  speculative  and  idealizing  methods,  and 
after  showins:  that,  in  the  instance  of  the  sacred 
orator,  all  his  power  and  eloquence  must  take  its 
origin  in  an  objective  revelation,  and  not  in  the 
operations  of  the  unassisted  and  isolated  human 
intellect,  it  will  be  appropriate  to  consider,  very 
briefly,  some  characteristics  of  that  property  of  style 
which  we  are  discussing.  At  the  same  time,  how- 
ever, it  should  be  observed,  that  in  point'iug  out 
where  power  lies,  and  what  is  the  true  method  of 
coming  into  possession  of  it,  we  have  to  some 
extent  exhibited  its  essential  nature.  Force,  gene- 
rally, cannot  be  disconnected  from  its  sources,  and 
cannot  easily  be  described.  The  orator  can  be 
directed  to  that  sort  of  self-disci2:)line,  and  tliat 
method  of  thinking,  and  those  objects  of  thought, 
from  which  power  springs  of  itself,  but  the  living 
energy  itself  cannot  be  so  pictured  out  to  him  that 


PEOPERTTES    OF   STYLE.  83 

he  will  be  able  to  attain  it  from  the  mere  descrip- 
tion. No  drawing  lias  yet  been  made  of  the  force 
of  gravitation.  The  best  and  only  true  definition 
of  life  is  to  show  signs  of  life ;  and  the  best  and 
only  definition  of  power  is  a  manifestation  of  it. 

The  principal  quality  in  a  forcible  style,  and 
that  which  first  strikes  our  attention,  is  'penetration. 
While  listening  to  a  speaker  of  whom  this  property 
is  a  characteristic,  our  minds  seem  to  be  pricked  as 
with  needles,  and  pierced  as  with  javelins.  His 
thoughts  cut  through  the  more  dull  and  apathetic 
parts,  into  the  quick,  and  produce  a  keen  sensation. 
Force  is  electrical;  it  permeates  and  thrills.  A 
speaker  destitute  of  energy  never  produces  such  a 
peculiar  sensation  as  this.  He  may  please  by  the 
even  flow  of  his  descriptions  and  narrations,  and  by 
the  elegance  of  his  general  method  and  style,  but 
our  feeling  is  merely  that  of  complacency.  We  are 
conscious  of  a  quiet  satisfaction  as  we  listen,  and  of 
a  soft  and  tranquil  mental  pleasure  as  he  closes, 
but  of  nothing  more.  He  has  not  cut  sharply  into 
the  heart  of  his  subject,  and  consequently  he  has 
not  cut  sharply  into  the  heart  of  his  hearer. 

The  principal,  perhaps  the  sole  cause,  of  the  suc- 
cess of  the  radical  orator  of  the  present  day  with 
his  audience,  is  his  force.  He  is  a  man  of  one  lone 
idea,  and  if  this  happens  to  be  a  great  and  funda- 
mental one,  as  it  sometimes  does,  it  is  apprehended 
upon  one  of  its  sides  only.  As  a  consequence,  he 
is  an  intense  man,  a  forcible  man.     His  utterances 


84  HOinLETICS. 

penetrate.  It  is  true  tliat  there  are  among  this  class 
some  of  less  earnest  spirit,  and  less  energetic  temper ; 
amateur  reformers,  who  wish  to  make  an  impression 
upon  the  public  mind  from  motives  of  mere  vanity. 
Such  men  are  exceedingly  feeble,  and  soon  desist 
from  their  undertaking.  For  while  the  common 
mind  is  ever  ready,  too  ready,  to  listen  to  a  really 
earnest  and  forcible  man,  even  though  his  force  pro- 
ceeds from  a  wrong  source,  and  sets  in  an  altogether 
wrong  direction,  it  yet  loathes  a  lukewarm  earnest- 
ness, a  counterfeited  enthusiasm.  One  of  the  most 
telling  characters,  in  one  of  the  most  brilliant  English 
comedies,  is  Forcible  Feeble.  Take  away  from  the 
man  who  goes  now  by  the  name  of  reformer, — the 
half-educated  man  who  sees  the  truth  but  not  the 
loJidle  truth, — take  away  from  him  his  force,  and 
you  take  away  his  muscular  system.  He  instanta- 
neously collapses  into  a  flabby  pulp. 

It  is  this  penetrating  quality,  then,  which  ren- 
ders discourse  effective.  And  the  preacher  is  the 
man,  above  all  men,  who  should  be  characterized 
by  it,  if  the  theory  which  we  have  laid  down  respect- 
ing the  origin  of  power  is  the  true  one.  The  preacher 
who  studies  and  ponders  the  Bible  as  a  whole,  will 
not  be  a  half-educated  man.  He  will  not  see  great 
ideas  on  one  side,  but  on  all  sides,  because  they  are 
so  exhibited  in  the  Scriptures.  Whatever  power 
he  derives  from  the  contemplation  of  inspired  truth 
will  be  legitimate,  and  it  will  be  regulated.  His 
force  will  not  be  lawless  and  without  an  aim,  like 


PEOPERTIES   OF   STYLE.  85 

tliat  of  the  man  Avbose  tliouglits  are  mere  specula- 
tions. His  power  will  be  like  power  in  material 
nature.  The  forces  of  nature  are  denominated,  indif- 
ferently, forces  or  laws ;  and  tlie  power  of  tlie  Bibli- 
cal mind  is  one  with  eternal  law  and  eternal  truth. 
A  striking  writer  of  the  present  age  furnishes 
an  example  which,  in  the  way  of  contrast,  throws 
light  upon  the  ^^articular  aspect  of  the  subject  we 
are  considering.  Yv^e  allude  to  Thomas  Carlyle. 
Force,  intense  penetration,  and  incisive  keenness,  is 
the  secret  of  his  influence  over  the  younger  class  of 
educated  men.  Take  these  away  from  his  thoughts, 
and  there  is  not  enough  of  depth,  comprehensive- 
ness and  originality  in  them,  to  account  for  the 
impression  which  he  has  made,  as  an  author,  upon 
his  generation.  But  this  force  in  Carlyle  is,  after 
all,  wholly  subjective,  and  therefore  spasmodic.  It 
does  not  originate  from  a  living  reception  into  his 
mind,  of  the  great  body  of  objective  and  revealed 
truth.  Suppose  that  that  intellect  were  truly  con- 
templative ;  suppose  that  it  had  brooded  over  those 
two  single  ideas  .of  the  Divine  personality  and 
human  apostasy,  with  their  immense  implication; 
w^hat  a  difference  there  would  be  in  the  quantity 
and  the  quality  of  its  force.  How  much  broader 
and  deeper  would  be  its  intuition ;  how  much  more 
practical  and  influential  would  be  its  projects  for 
ameliorating  the  condition  of  man ;  and  how  much 
more  permanent  would  be  its  influence  in  literary 
history. 


86  HOMILETICS. 

For  the  energy  in  tliis  instance  is  convulsive, 
and  of  the  nature  of  a  spasm.  It  is  the  force  of  a 
fury,  and  not  of  an  angel.  The  muscle  is  bravely 
kept  tight-drawn  by  an  intense  volition,  and  for  a 
while  there  is  the  appearance  of  selfsufficient 
power.  But  the  creature  is  finite,  and  a  slight 
tremor  becomes  visible,  and  the  cord  finally  slack- 
ens. The  human  mind  needs  to  repose  upon  some- 
thing greater,  deeper,  grander  than  itself ;  and  when, 
either  from  a  false  theory,  or  from  human  pride,  or 
from  both,  there  is  not  this  recumbency  upon  objec- 
tive and  eternal  truth,  its  inherent  fiuiteness  and 
feebleness  sooner  or  later  appear.  The  created 
mind  may  endeavor  to  make  up  for  this  want  of 
inward  power,  by  a  stormy  and  passionate  energy ; 
but  time  is  long,  and  truth  is  infinite,  and  sooner 
or  later  the  overtasked,  because  unassisted,  intellect 
gives  out,  and  its  possessor,  weary  and  broken  by 
its  struggles  and  convulsions,  rushes  to  the  other 
extreme  of  tired  and  hopeless  scepticism,  and  cries 
with  Macbeth : 

"  Life's  but  a  walking  shadow ;  a  poor  player 
Tliat  struts  and  frets  liis  hour  upon  the  stage, 
And  then  is  heard  no  more  :  it  is  a  tale 
Told  by  an  idiot,  full  of  sound  and  fury 

.  Signifying  nothing.'" 

'  The  defect  in  this  unnatural  do   not  here  allude  to  the  Ger- 

force  displays  itselfin  the  rhetoric,  man  English  phraseology,  which 

as  well  as  the  philosophy,  of  the  seems    now  to    have   become   a 

writer  in  question.      His    style  second  nature  with  Carlyle.    This 

corresponds  to  his  thought.     We  ch.aracteristic  is  unduly  magnified 


PEOPEETIES    O-P    STYLE.  87 

The  Cbristiau  mind  is  preserved  from  tliis  fault 
of  unnatural  and  feeble  forcefuluess,  because  it  has 
received  into  itself  a  complete  system  of  truth  and 
doctrine.  Any  mind  that  is  Biblical,  is  comprehen- 
sive and  all-surveying.  Its  power  originates  from  a 
full  view.  Its  intensity  springs  from  an  intuition 
that  is  both  central  and  jDeripheral.  And  the 
times  demand  this  quality  in  the  pulpit  orator. 
Rapidity  is  the  characteristic  of  the  mental  processes 
of  this  generation.  An'  age  that  is  itself  full  of 
energy,  craves  an  eloquence  that  is  powerful.  And 
this  power  must  be  pure  and  sustained.  The  energy 
must  display  itself  through  every  fibre,  and  the 
whole  fabric.  The  sermon  should  throb  with  a 
robust  life.  But  it  will  not,  until  the  preacher  has 
inhaled,  into  his  own  intellect,  the  energy  and  inten- 
sity of  revealed  ideas,  and  then  has  dared  to  strip 
away  from  the  matter  in  which  this  force  is  em- 
bodied, every  thing  that  impedes  its  working.  Pow- 
erful writers  are  plain.  The  fundamental  properties 
of  style  are  intei'linked ;  and  he  who  has  secured 
plainness  will  secure  force,  while  a  failure  to  attain 


by  critics,  and  is  by  no  means  the  forcible,    without    calm    inward 

principal  fault  in  his  manner.     It  power.     It  is  the  effort  to  cut 

can  be  endured  in  hira,  though  and  penetrate  to  the  core,  with- 

unendurable    in    his    imitators,  out  really  doing  so.     Ilis  style 

Wc  allude  rather  to  the  exaggera-  wears  the  appearance  of  a  desire 

tion,  and   spasmodic   contortion,  to  be  tremendously  strong.     The 

which  appear  in  his  style,  espe-  aspiration  is  infinite,  but  the  per- 

cially  in  his  later    productions,  formance  is  infinitesimal. 
It  19  the  tug   and  strain  to  be 


88  HOMILETICS. 

tlie  former  carries  witli  it  the  failure  to  attain  tlie 
latter. 

3.  Tlie  third  fuDclamental  property  of  style  is 
heauty.  The  best  definition  that  has  "been  given  of 
beauty  is  that  of  the  Roman  school  of  painting, 
namely,  il  piu,  neW  iino^  multitude  in  unity.  The 
essential  principle  of  beauty  is  that,  by  which  all 
the  manifoldness  and  variety  in  an  object  is  moulded 
into  unity  and  simplicity.  Take  a  painting,  for  exam- 
ple. In  this  object,  there  are  a  great  many  partic- 
ular elements.  There  is  color  of  many  varieties,  and 
many  shades  of  the  same  variety.  There  is  the 
blending  and  contrast  of  these  colors,  so  as  to  pro- 
duce the  varieties  of  lig;ht  and  shade.  There  is  a 
general  harmony  of  tints,  and  a  pleasing  texture  in 
the  objects  exhibited  in  the  picture.  Again,  there 
are,  in  this  j)ainting,  a  great  many  lines  as  well  as 
colors,  curved  lines  and  right  lines,  indeed  all  the 
geometrical  elements,  intermingled  and  in  every 
variety  of  relation  to  each  other.  Again,  in  this 
painting  a  great  many  different  properties  of 
matter  are  represented.  Some  of  the  objects  in  it 
are  compressed  and  solid,  others  are  diffuse  and 
airy ;  some  are  colossal  and  firm,  others  are  slender 
and  slight ;  some  are  rigid  and  immovable,  others 
are  mobile  and  pliant.  Again,  there  are,  in  this 
painting,  a  variety  of  more  distinctively  intellectual 
elements,  such  as  proportion,  symmetry,  exactness, 
neatness,  elegance,  grace,  dignity,  sublimity. 

Here,  then,  if  we  have  regard  to  number  alone 


PROPERTIES   OF   STYLE.  89 

is  a  great  sum  of  separate  items  or  elements,  in  this 
painting.  Each  one  is  distinct  from  all  the  rest. 
But  more  than  this,  these  items  are  also  diverse 
from  each  other.  The  sensuous  elements  of  color  are 
different  from  the  geometrical  elements  of  lines ; 
and  the  more  distinctively  intellectual  elements, 
such  as  proportion,  exactness,  and  elegance,  are  dif- 
ferent from  both.  In  short,  the  more  closely  we 
analyze  this  painting,  the  more  clearly  shall  we  see 
that  it  is  composed  of  a  great  amount  and  variety 
of  particulars.  If  v/e  look  at  its  items  and  elements, 
we  shall  perceive  that  as  an  object  it  is  manifold. 
It  is  a  "  multitude  "  of  items  and  elements. 

And  yet,  if  it  is  a  beautiful  picture,  it  is  a 
"  unity  "  also.  As  we  stand  before  a  great  painting 
like  the  Last  Supper  of  Da  Vinci,  for  example,  we 
are  conscious  of  receiving  but  one  general  impression. 
We  do  not  receive  a  distinct,  and  separate  impres- 
sion, from  each  one  of  these  items  and  elements  that 
constitute  its  mauifoldness,  but  a  general  and  total 
impression.  We  do  not  experience  a  hundred  thou- 
sand impressions,  from  an  hundred  thousand  parti- 
culars. We  see,  and  we  feel,  that  the  work  is  a  unity. 
It  breathes  one  spirit,  and  is  pervaded  by  one  tone. 
It  is,  accordincj;  to  the  definition  with  which  we  beccan, 
"multitude  in  unity,"  and  hence  it  is  beautiful. 

For  it  is  to  be  observed,  that  while,  and  so  long 
as,  we  are  busy  with  the  particulars  alone,  we  per- 
ceive no  beauty.  That  analytic  process,  while  it 
is  going  on,  prevents  any  lesthetic  perception  and 


90  IIOIVITLETICS. 

pleasure.  So  long  as  ^Ye  are  counting  up  the  items 
of  this  multitude,  and  before  we  liave  come  to  tlie 
intuition  of  the  unity  of  the  whole  wort,  we  are 
unconscious  of  its  beauty.  It  is  not  until  the  analy- 
sis stops,  and  the  synthesis  begins ;  it  is  not  until  we 
are  aware  that  all  this  multitude  of  particulars  has 
been  moulded,  by  the  one  idea  of  the  artist's  imagi- 
nation, into  a  single  breathing  unity,  that  we.  feel  the 
beauty  that  is  in  the  painting.  If  the  mind  of  the 
beholder  could  never  get  beyond  this  analysis  of 
particulars,  and  could  never  do  any  thing  more  than 
enumerate  these  items,  it  could  never  experience  the 
feeling  of  beauty.  If  the  eye  of  the  beholder  were 
merely  a  brute's  eye,  merely  receiving  the  impres- 
sions made  by  the  items  and  elements  of  the  vision, 
it  could  never  perceive  the  beautiful.  The  brute's 
eye  is  impressed  by  the  manifolduess  of  the  object, 
or  the  scene,  but  never  by  the  unity.  As  it  roves 
over  the  landscape  spread  out  before  it,  the  organ 
of  the  animal  is  undoubtedly  subject  to  the  same 
sensuous  and  particular  impressions,  as  those  of  a 
Raphael ;  and,  perhaps,  if  the  brute  were  capable  of 
analyzing  and  enumerating,  it  might  detect  the 
greater  portion  of  those  elements  that  make  up  the 
manifolduess  of  the  picture.  But  the  modifying 
power  is  wanting.  That  unifying  23rinciple  which 
can  mould  these  elements  into  a  unity,  and  bring 
simplicity  into  this  diffusion  and  separation  of  par- 
ticulars, has  not  been  given  to  the  brute. 

We  have  thus  briefly  examined  this  definition 


PEOPERTIES   OF   STYLE.  91 

of  beauty,  not  merely  because  it  is  the  most  pliilo- 
sopbical  of  any  that  has  been  given,  but  because  it 
is  the  most  useful  and  safest  definition  for  the  pur- 
poses of  the  orator,  and  particularly  of  the  sacred 
orator.  It  is  too  much  the  habit  to  regard  beauty, 
as  mere  ornamentation  ;  as  something  that  is  added 
to  other  properties,  instead  of  growing  out  of  thera. 
Hence,  it  is  too  much  the  habit  to  cultivate  the 
beautiful  in  isolation  ;  to  set  it  up  before  the  mind, 
as  an  independent  quality,  and  to  make  every  other 
quality  subservient  to  it.  In  no  dej)artment  is  this 
more  2:)ernicious,  and  fatal  to  true  success,  than  in 
rhetoric. 

This  habit  is  founded,  partly  at  least,  upon  a 
wrong  conception  of  beauty.  It  is  not  defined  in 
accordance  with  its  essential  princij^le,  but  rather  in 
accordance  with  its  more  superficial  characteristics. 
Beauty,  wath  too  many,  is  that  which  ornaments, 
which  decks  out  and  sets  ofi:',  plainness  and  force,  or 
whatever  the  other  properties  may  be,  with  which  it 
happens  to  be  juxta-posed.  But  if  the  definition  that 
has  been  given  be  the  true  one,  beauty  is  rather  an 
inevitable  accompaniment,  than  a  labored  decoration. 
It  has  a  spontaneous  origin.  It  springs  into  existence, 
whenever  the  mind  has  succeeded  in  imparting  the 
properties  of  unity  and  simplicity  to  a  multitude  of 
particulars  which,  taken  by  themselves,  are  desti- 
tute of  these  properties.  But  unity  and  simplicity 
are  substantial  properties;  they  have  an  intrinsic 
worth.     True  beauty,  therefore,  springs  into  exist- 


92  no:inLETics. 

ence  at  the  very  time  tliat  tlie  mind  is  seeking  to 
impart  to  the  object  of  its  attention  its  most  ster- 
ling and  necessary  characteristics.  It  does  not  arise 
when  the  mind  is  neglecting  essential  and  necessary 
characteristics,  and  is  aiming  at  an  isolated,  and  an 
independent  decoration. 

Take  the  case  of  the  sacred  orator,  and  see  how 
true  this  position  is.  Suppose  that  the  j^reacher, 
in  the  composition  of  a  sermon,  altogether  or  in  part 
neglects  the  necessary  property  of  unity,  and  en- 
deavors to  superinduce  upon  a  heterogeneous  mass 
of  materials,  which  he  has  gathered  together,  the 
element  and  property  of  beauty.  By  the  supposi- 
tion, he  has  not  moulded  these  materials  in  the  least. 
There  they  lie,  a  great  "  multitude "  of  items  and 
particulars,  but  the  mind  of  the  2)i'eacher  has  per- 
vaded them  with  no  unifying,  and  no  simplifying 
principle.  There  is  multitude,  manifoldness,  vari- 
ety, but  there  is  no  unity.  Now  it  is  not  possible, 
for  him  to  compose  a  beautiful  oration  in  this  man- 
ner. He  may  decorate  as  much  as  he  pleases ;  he 
may  cull  words,  and  invent  metaphors,  and  wire- 
draw metaphors  into  similes ;  he  may  toil  over  his 
work  until  he  is  gray;  but  he  cannot,  upon  this 
method,  compose  a  truly  beautiful  work.  So  long 
as  this  sermon  is  destitute  of  a  moulding  and  unify- 
ing principle  which  assimilates,  and  combines,  this 
multitude  of  particulars  into  a  whole,  into  a  simple 
and  pure  unit,  it  cannot  be  made  beautiful.      So 


PE0PEETIE3   OF   STYLE.  93 

long  as  this  sermon  is  destitute  of  unity,  it  must  "be 
destitute  of  beauty. 

The  eour-se  wLicli  the  sermonizer  should  take 
in  this  case  is  plain.  He  should  cease  this  effort  to 
ornament  this  aggregat-e  of  sepai'ate  items  and  par- 
ticulars, and  begin  to  reduce  them  into  unity  and 
simplicity  of  form.  This  is  no  time  for  him  to  be 
thinking  about  the  beauty  of  his  sermon.  If  he 
will  cease  altogether  to  think  about  it,  and  will 
aim  at  those  necessary  and  essential  properties 
which  his  sermon  as  yet  lacks,  he  will  find  in  the 
end  that  a  real  and  true  beauty  has  spontaneously 
sprung  into  existence.  He  who  finds  beauty  shall 
lose  it,  but  he  who  loses  beauty  shall  find  it.  He 
who  is  prematurely  anxious  to  secure  beauty  will  fail; 
but  he  whose  anxiety  has  respect  first  to  the  neces- 
sary properties  of  style,  will  find  beauty  following  in 
their  train,  as  the  shadow  follows  the  substance. 

For  it  is  plain,  that  just  in  j^roportion  as  the 
sermon  rounds  into  unity,  does  it  swell  into  beauty. 
It  pleases  the  taste  and  the  sense  for  the  beautiful, 
just  in  proj)oi*tion  as  the  unifying  and  simplifying 
process  goes  on.  The  eye,  at  first,  sees  no  form  or 
comeliness  in  the  multitude  of  materials,  because 
they  are  a  mere  multitude ;  because  they  are  ar- 
ranged u^Don  no  method,  and  moulded  by  no 
principle  of  unity.  But,  gradually,  the  logic  of  the 
preacher's  mind  penetrates,  and  pervades,  the  mass 
of  particulars ;  the  homogeneous  elements  are  assim- 
ilated, and  the  heterogeneous  are  sloughed  off;  the 


94  HOJOLETICS. 

vital  currents  of  a  system,  and  a  metliod,  begin  to 
play  through  the  parts,  and  the  work  now  takes  on 
a  rounded  unity,  and  a  chaste  simj)licity.  And  now, 
for  the  first  time,  beauty  begins  to  appear.  The  ser- 
mon is  seen  to  be  a  beautiful  product  because  it  is 
one,  and  simple,  in  its  structure  and  impression. 

Thus  it  appears,  that  true  beauty  is  not  an  orna- 
ment washed  on  from  without,  but  an  efflux  from 
within.  The  effort  to  be  methodical  results  in 
beauty.  The  endeavor  after  unity  results  in  beauty. 
The  effort  to  be  simple  results  in  beauty.  But 
method,  unity,  and  simplicity,  are  essential  proper- 
ties. True  beauty  in  rhetoric,  therefore,  is  the 
natural  and  necessary  accompaniment  of  solid  and 
substantial  characteristics,  both  in  the  matter  and 
in  the  form.  It  is  found  in  every  composition  that 
is  characterized  by  "  unity  in  multitude,"  and  by 
simplicity  in  complexity. 

Having  thus  stated  and  explained  this  defini- 
tion, we  proceed  to  notice  some  of  its  excel- 
lences and  advantages.  And,  first,  it  is  a  safe 
definition  for  the  orator.  There  is  no  property  in 
style  so  liable  to  be  injured  and  spoiled  by  excess, 
as  beauty.  The  orator  cannot  be  too  plain,  or  too 
forcible,  but  he  may  be  too  beautiful.  The 
aesthetic  nature,  unlike  the  rational,  or  the  moral, 
may  be  too  much  developed.  Tlie  development  of 
the  taste  and  imagination  must  be  a  symmetrical 
one,  in  order  to  be  a  just  and  true  one.  If  the 
aesthetic  processes  should  exceed  their  time  propor- 


PROPERTIES    OF   STYLE.  95 

tion,  and  absorb  into  tliemselves  all  the  rational 
and  moral  processes  of  the  human  soul,  so  that 
it  .should  become  wholly  imaginative,  and  merely 
aesthetic,  this  woidd  be  an  illegitimate  and  false 
development.  The  true  proportion,  in  this  instance, 
is  a  subordination  of  the  imagination,  and  the  taste, 
to  the  purposes  and  aims  of  the  rational  and  moral 
faculties.  If,  now,  it  be  said  in  reply  to  this,  that 
proportion  is  equally  required  in  the  rational  and 
moral  processes  of  the  soul ;  that  the  reason  ought 
not  to  absorb  the  imagination,  any  more  than  the 
imagination  the  reason  ;  we  answer,  that  this  cannot 
hajipen.  For  in  the  true  and  pure  development 
of  the  rational  and  moral  powers,  a  proper  and 
subordinate  development  of  the  imaginative  and 
aesthetic  is  necessitated.  A  true  and  pure  unfold- 
ing of  the  rational  and  moral  nature  of  man  would 
inevitahly  be  a  proportionate,  and  hence  a  beautiful 
one.  Reason  and  right  are  the  absolute,  and  in 
developing  them,  all  things  that  rest  upon  them 
are  developed  also.  The  true  and  the  good  are 
necessarily  beautiful. 

But  although  such  is  the  fact,  the  human  mind 
is  too  unwilling  to  trust  to  the  simj^le,  and  chaste 
beauty  of  truth  and  reason.  It  lusts  after  a 
divorced,  and  an  independent  beauty.  It  tends 
to  an  excessive,  disproportioned,  unsubordinated 
development  of  the  aesthetic  sense.  The  influence 
of  such  a  tendency,  upon  eloquence  and  oratory, 
is  pernicious  in  the  highest  degree,  and  one  great 


96  no:MiLETic9. 

aim  of  a  true  and  liigh  theory  of  eloquence  is  to 
counteract  it.  And,  certainly,  that  definition  of 
beauty  which  makes  it  to  be  more  than  mere 
decoration, — which  regards  it  as  the  result  of  a 
unifying  principle,  moulding  into  one  a  great  mul- 
titude of  particulars, — is  a  safe  one  for  the  preacher, 
in  the  respects  of  which  we  are  speaking.  There 
is  no  danger  of  an  excess  of  unity  and  method  in 
the  sermon.  The  closer  and  more  compact  the 
materials,  the  simpler  and  more  symmetrical  the 
plan,  the  better  the  sermon.  These  characteristics 
never  can  become  exorbitant,  and  hence  that  beauty 
which  springs  out  of  them  can  never  become  an 
extravagant  and  false  ornamentation.  The  same 
is  true  of  simplicity.  This  shows  itself  more  in 
the  style  and  diction  of  a  sermon,  than  in  the  plan 
and  its  parts.  But  can  there  ever  be  too  much  of 
chaste  and  pure  simplicity,  in  the  language  and 
style  ?  The  more  there  is  of  this  property,  the 
nearer  does  the  work  aj)proach  to  that  most  purely 
beautiful  of  all  the  productions  of  Grecian  art,  the 
Ionic  column.  Compare  the  Ionic  with  the  Co- 
rinthian column,  and  the  difference  between  pure 
and  excessive  beauty  is  apparent.  In  the  Ionic 
column,  the  unity  completely  pervades  and  masters 
the  manifoldness.  The  eye  is  not  distracted  by 
complexity  of  parts,  or  a  multitude  of  particulars, 
but  rests  with  a  tranquil  complacency  upon  the 
simple  oneness,  the  chaste  pure  beauty  of  the 
column.     In  the   Corinthian  column,  there  is  not 


PE0PEETIE3    OF   STYLE.  97 

this  entire  pervasion,  and  perfect  domination,  of 
the  manifold  by  tlie  unity.  The  variety  of  parts 
and  particulars  somewhat  overflows  tlie  unity  of 
the  wliole.  There  is  too  much  decoration,  the 
sesthetic  sense  is  a  little  satiated,  the  appetite  is 
a  little  palled,  and  the  eye  does  not  experience 
that  entire  satisfaction  in  taking  in  the  column  as 
a  whole,  which  it  feels  on  beholding  the  less  deco- 
rated Ionic.  As  a  work  of  art,  it  is  not  so  clean, 
so  nice,  so  elegant,  so  purely  and  simj^ly  beautiful. 

The  definition  which  we  are  considering,  then, 
is  a  safe  one  in  its  influence,  because  it  insists  upon 
the  presence  and  the  presidency  of  the  idea  of 
unity.  This  idea  logically  precludes  over-orna- 
ment. It  forbids  an  excess  of  materials, — too 
much  variety,  too  much  manifoldness,  in  the  parts 
and  particulars.  And,  supposing  there  is  no  excess 
in  the  amount  of  materials,  supposing  the  manifold 
elements  are  in  just  proportion,  then  this  idea  and 
principle  of  unity  precludes  the  isolation,  the  dis- 
connection, the  independence  of  any  of  them. 
Tliere  can  be  no  excess^  according  to  this  definition. 
The  beauty  that  results  is  a  pure  and  a  safe  embel- 
lishment. 

In  the  second  place,  the  definition  under  con- 
sideration is  a  useful  one  for  the  sacred  orator.  It 
is  practically  available  for  the  purposes  of  preach- 
ing. For  it  teaches,  not  only  that  unity  and  sim- 
plicity are  essential  to  the  existence  of  beauty,  but 
that  the  efi^'ort  to  obtain  them  is  really  an  eftbrt  to 
7 


98  HOMILETICS. 

obtain  beauty.  The  definition  implies,  that  success 
in  respect  to  unity, — to  unity  that  is  thorough,  and 
perfusive,  and  moulds  the  multitudes  of  materials, — 
is  success  in  respect  to  beauty. 

The  sacred  orator,  consequently,  knows  exactly 
what  he  needs  to  do,  in  order  to  secure  that  prop- 
erty of  style  wliich  w^e  are  considering.  And  this 
is  of  more  importance  tlian  it  might  at  first  seem. 
For  it  is  more  difficult  to  proceed  intelligently, 
in  respect  to  the  j)recept,  "  Be  beautiful,"  tlian 
in  -respect  to  the  precept,  "  Be  plain,"  or,  "  Be 
forcible."  Indeed,  if  that  definition  of  beauty 
which  we  are  recommending  be  rejected,  it  seems 
to  us  that  the  mind  of  the  orator  must  be  perplexed, 
when  he  is  desirous  of  imparting  this  property  to 
his  work.  How  shall  he  begin  to  render  his 
oration  beautiful?  and  when  skall  lie  end  the 
effort  ?  are  questions  that  are  answered,  not  only 
the  most  safely,  but  the  most  intelligently,  by 
bidding  him  to  impart  the  greatest  possible  unity 
to  it.  Certainly,  there  is  no  other  property  or 
characteristic  in  beauty,  so  prominent  as  this  of 
unity,  and  there  is  no  one  that  is  so  distinct  and 
easily  apprehensible. 

Let  the  preacher,  then,  adopt  this  definition, 
because  it  is  a  working  definition.  Let  him  see 
and  believe,  that  all  true  beauty  springs  naturally 
from  unity  and  simplicity,  and  then  let  him  act 
accordingly.  Let  him,  first  of  all,  strive  to  make 
his  sermon  a  unit  and  a  whole,  so  far  as  its  method 


PEOPERTEES    OF   STYLE.  99 

is  concei'iied.  Jnst  in  proportion  as  lie  succeeds 
in  so  doing,  will  lie  construct  a  beautiful  plan, — 
a  plan  that  will  satisfy  the  .xstlietic  sense,  at 
the  very  time  that  it  satisfies  the  logical  under- 
standing. Let  him  seek  to  render  this  property  of 
unity  pervading  and  perfusive,  so  far  as  style  and 
diction  are  concerned,  and  his  style  and  diction  will 
be  beautiful.  For,  this  unifying  principle,  working 
thoroughly  and  clear  to  the  edge,  like  the  principle 
of  life  in  nature,  will  display  itself  in  simplicity 
of  style,  and  chastity,  and  purity  of  diction.  And 
is  not  such  a  style  and  diction  beautiful  ?  If  style 
and  diction  are  not  essentially  simple,  and  pure, 
and  chaste,  can  any  possible  amount  of  ornamenta- 
tion ever  make  them  beautiful  ?  Is  not  unity  per- 
vading the  manifoldness,  in  this  instance  as  well  as 
in  that  of  the  plan,  the  essence  and  basis  of  beauty  ? 
In  the  third  place,  this  definition  recommends 
itself  to  the  sacred  orator,  because  it  is  comprelicn- 
sivG.  AVe  have  seen  in  the  first  part  of  this  chapter, 
that  more  comprehensive  terms  are  desirable,  than 
"perspicuity"  and  "energy,"  and  hence  we  have 
chosen  the  terms  "  plainness "  and  "  force,"  to 
denote  those  properties  of  style  which  address  the 
powers  of  cognition  and  feeling.  A  wider  and 
more  comprehensive  term  than  "  elegance," — the 
term  that  is  usually  associated  with  "  perspicuity  " 
and  "  energy," — is  also  needed,  to  denote  that 
property  of  style  which  addresses  the  imagination 
and  aesthetic  nature,  and  hence  we  have  selected 


100  HOMILETICS. 

the  term  "  beauty."  This  term  is  sufficiently  com- 
prehensive to  include  a  number  of  particulars,  each 
of  which  is  pleasing  to  the  taste. 

First  in  order  among  these,  is  neatness.  This 
property  in  style  renders  it  clean  and  pure  ;  as  the 
Latin  verb  niteo^  nitesco,  from  which  it  comes,  de- 
notes. This  purity  and  niceness,  as  some  of  the 
meanings  of  these  Latin  verbs  indicate,  may  become 
a  very  bright  and  splendid  quality.  The  sculptor 
may  cut  the  statue  so  very  cleanly,  and  impart  such 
a  high  neatness  to  it,  that  it  shall  actually  shine 
and  gleam  like  silver.  This  seems  to  be  the  ex- 
planation of  the  uses  of  the  Latin  root,  and  shows 
how  a  primarily  j)lain  property  may  be  heightened 
into  ornament  and  splendor.  The  passage  from 
neatness  to  elegance  is  very  easy  and  imperceptible, 
and,  like  elegance  itself,  neatness  is  a  property  that 
is  aesthetic,  and  pleases  the  taste. 

And  this  conducts  to  the  second  particular, 
under  the  head  of  beauty:  viz.,  elegance.  The 
etymology  of  this  word  shows  its  meaning  to  be 
kindred  to  that  of  neatness.  Elesfant  is  from  e 
and  lego.  Elegance  is  a  nice  choice.  The  elegant 
is  the  elect.  The  elegant  is  the  select.  Out  of  a 
multitude  of  particulars,  the  most  fitting  is  chosen. 
Under  the  influence  of  that  principle  and  idea  of 
unity,  of  which  we  have  spoken,  the  orator  selects 
the  most  apj^ropriate  word,  the  word  which  pro- 
motes the  simplicity  of  the  statement,  and  thus  his 
diction  is  elegant.      Or,  under  the  influence  of  this 


PROPERTIES   OF   STYLE.  101 

same  idea  of  unity,  lie  culls  tlie  most  suitable 
metaphor  out  of  a  multitude,  and  tlius  Lis  illustra- 
tion is  elegant. 

The  third  particular  under  the  head  of  beauty, 
is  grace.  This  has  been  defined  to  be  beauty  in  "^ 
motion.  When  we  have  a  still  picture,  a  tranquil 
repose  of  beauty,  there  is  no  grace.  But  start  this 
property  into  motion,  and  it  takes  on  this  aspect. 
We  speak  of  a  beautiful  landscape,  and  a  gracefid 
figure ;  of  a  beautiful  color,  and  a  graceful  curve. 
The  color  is  still ;  the  curve  is  a  line,  and  the  line 
is  a  point  in  motion,  according  to  the  old  geometry, 
and  its  curved  motion  is  graceful 

Lastly,  there  is  what  we  must  denominate,  for 
want  of  a  better  term,  heautij  projyer,  or  speciflc 
heauty.  We  cannot  here  give  a  fall  definition  of 
this  element  in  the  general  conception  of  the  beau- 
tiful. We  mean  by  it  more  than  neatness,  and 
more  than  elegance.  Perhaps  that  which  goes 
under  the  name  of  ornament  and  embellishment,  in 
style,  is  nearest  to  it.  It  is  that  flush  of  color,  and 
that  sjolendor  of  light,  which  are  poured  over  the 
discourse  of  a  highly  imaginative  mind, — ^like  that 
of  Jeremy  Taylor,  for  example.  Placing  neatness 
as  the  lowest  degree  in  the  scale  of  general  beauty, 
then  specific  beauty  would  be  the  last  and  highest 
degree, — elegance  and  grace  being  intemiediate. 
In  this  way,  the  term  beauty  becomes  comj)rehen- 
sive,  and  sufiicient  for  all  the  purposes  of  rhetoric. 
For,  every  orator  should  exhibit  something  of  this 


102  HOMILETICS. 

fundamental  property  of  style.  Even  the  least 
imaginative  preacher  should  discourse  in  a  manner 
that  possesses  some  of  these  elements  of  beauty; 
that  not  only  does  not  offend  a  cultivated  taste, 
but  satisfies  and  pleases  it.  No  writer  or  speaker 
should  be  debarred  from  the  beautiful.  It  is  a 
legitimate  property  in  style,  and  should  appear  in 
some  of  its  qualities,  and  degrees,  in  every  man's 
discourse. 

This  brings  us  to  the  practical  application  of  this 
discussion  of  the  nature,  and  extent,  of  the  beau- 
tiful ;  and  what  we  have  to  say  will  be  contained  in 
several  rules  or  maxims.  First,  the  preacher  should 
always  make  beauty  of  style  subservient  to  plain- 
ness and  force.  This  third  fundamental  property 
should  not  overflow,  and  submerge,  the  first  two. 
In  all  its  degrees,  from  neatness  up  to  beauty  in 
the  stricter  specific  sense,  it  should  contribute  to 
render  discourse  clear  to  the  understanding,  and  in- 
fluential upon  the  feelings.  The  moment  that  this 
23roj)erty,  in  any  of  its  forms,  oversteps  this  limit 
of  subordination  and  subservience,  it  becomes  a 
positive  fault  in  style.  Excessive  beauty  is  as  much 
a  defect  as  positive  deformity.  Sho"\^^,  gaudy  over- 
ornament  is  as  much  a  fault,  as  downright  ugliness. 
But,  in  following  the  definition  that  has  been  given, 
beauty  will  inevitably  be  subordinated  to  plainness 
and  force  of  style.  For,  no  more  of  neatness,  of 
elegance,  of  grace,  and  of  embellishment,  will  be 
admitted  or  employed,  than  the  principles  of  unity 


PEOPERTEES    OF   STYLE.  103 

and  simplicity  vnll  i)ermit.  The  endeavor  to  impai-t 
oneness  to  the  sermon  throughout  and  in  eveiy 
particular,  the  effort  to  secure  unity  in  logic,  style, 
and  diction,  will  keep  out  all  extravagant  ornamen- 
tation. The  striving  of  the  preacher  after  harmony 
and  simplicity,  which  according  to  the  definition  are 
the  inmost  essence  of  beauty,  will  allow  no  decora- 
tion to  characterize  his  seimon  but  that  which  is 
harmonious  and  simple.  And  such  embellishment 
as  this,  is  subservient  to  plainness  and  force. 

Secondly,  the  degree  and  amount  of  beauty  in 
style  should  accord  with  the  characteristics  of  the 
individual.  The  style  of  some  j^reachers  contains 
more  of  the  beautiful  than  that  of  others,  and  ought 
to.  For  there  are  differences  in  the  mental  structure. 
Some  minds  are  more  imaginative  and  poetic  than 
others.  Yet  every  mind  possesses  more  or  less  of 
imagination.  "  Even  the  dullest  wight,"  says  Cole- 
ridge, "  is  a  Shakspeare  in  his  dreams."  Hence, 
while  the  property  of  beauty,  as  we  have  already 
remarked,  belongs  to  style  generally,  and  should  be 
seen  in  every  man's  manner  of  discourse,  it  is  yet  a 
thinsr  of  dec'ree  and  amount.  This  de2:ree  and 
amount  must  be  determined,  by  the  amount  of 
imagination  that  has  been  bestowed  upon  the  indi- 
vidual. Some  men  are  so  constituted,  that  neatness 
is  the  utmost  that  is  proper  in  them.  If  they 
attempt  more  than  this  lowest  grade  of  the  beauti- 
ful, they  injure  their  style,  and  render  it  positively 
offensive  to  taste.     Stopping   with  neatness,  they 


104  HOMTLETICS. 

secure  beauty.  Others  may  be  elegant,  others 
graceful,  others,  and  these  are  the  few,  may  be 
beautiful  with  the  embellishment  and  ornament  of 
Jeremy  Taylor.  In  each  and  every  instance,  the 
grade  of  beauty  should  accord  with  the  individual- 
ity. If  it  does  not,  it  is,  in  reference  to  the  indi- 
vidual, excessive  and  isolated  beauty,  which  is  offen- 
sive to  the  taste,  and  therefore  really  of  the  nature 
of  the  deformed  and  the  ugly.  A  property  over- 
wrought, and  carried  to  excess,  turns  into  its  own 
contrary;  just  as  frost,  raised  to  its  utmost  intensity, 
produces  the  same  sensation  as  fire. 

But  in  what  other  way,  can  this  adjustment  of 
the  amount  of  beauty  in  style  to  the  individuality 
of  the  preacher  be  secured,  than  by  proceeding 
from  the  ideas  of  unity  and  simplicity ;  than  by 
adopting,  and  working  upon,  that  definition  which 
makes  these  the  essentials  and  basis  of  the  beauti- 
ful ?  If  the  preacher  sets  up  mere  decoration  as 
his  aim,  he  will  inevitably  outrun  his  capacities. 
He  will  attempt  to  embellish  his  sermon,  more  than 
his  mental  peculiarities  will  warrant.  There  will 
not  be  a  true  harmony  and  accord,  between  the 
amount  of  imagination  in  his  soul^  and  the  amount 
of  ornament  in  his  sermon.  On  the  other  hand, 
the  endeavor  to  infuse  unity,  symmetry,  and  sim- 
plicity, through  the  whole  sermon,  through  the  mat- 
ter and  the  form,  will  secure  a  just  proportion 
between  the  product  of  the  preacher's  mind,  and 
the   characteristics   of  the  preacher's   mind.     The 


PEOPEKTIES   OF   STYLE.  105 

orator  ^^dll  tlieii  exhibit  his  own  grade  of  beauty, 
in  his  style, — no  more,  and  no  less,  than  his  mental 
qualities  justify.  And  this  grade  is  the  truly  and 
the  highly  Beautiful,  for  liim,  and  in  Jiim. 


CIIAPTEE    IV. 

GENERAL  MAXIMS  FOR  SERMONIZING. 

Maxijvis  for  the  composition  of  sermons  are  of 
two  classes,  general  and  special, — those,  namely, 
which  relate  to  the  fundamental  discipline  that  ]ore- 
pares  for  the  construction  of  a  sermon,  and  those 
which  are  to  be  followed  in  the  act  of  composition 
itself. 

Before  particular  precej^ts  can  he  given  with 
profit,  it  is  necessary  to  call  attention  to  some  gen- 
eral rules,  the  observance  of  which  greatly  facili- 
tates the  process  of  writing  a  discourse.  The  ser- 
monizer  often  loses  much  time  and  labor,  in  the  sea- 
son of  immediate  preparation  for  the  2:)ulpit,  because 
he  has  made  little  general  i3rej)aration  for  the  work. 
As,  in  mechanics,  the  workman  always  seeks  to 
increase  the  efficiency  of  a  force,  by  applying  it 
under  all  the  advantages  possible,  so  the  intellectual 
workman  should  avail  himself  of  all  that  can  ren- 
der his  direct,  and  immediate,  efforts  more  effective 
and  successful.  A  dead  lift  should  be  avoided  by 
the  mind,  as  well  as  by  the  body.     Power,  in  both 


GENEKAL   MAXIMS.  107 

the  material  and  mental  worlds,  should  be  aided 
by  "wliat  tlie  mechanic  terras  a  purchase.  If  the 
sermonize!'  goes  to  the  construction  of  a  sermon, 
after  he  has  made  preparation  of  a  more  general 
nature,  he  will  be  far  more  successful  than  if  he 
begins  abruptly,  and  by  a  violent  or  perhaps  spas- 
modic application  of  his  powers. 

1.  The  first  of  these  general  maxims  is  this: 
Cultivate  a  liomiletiG  mental  lidbit.  By  this  is  meant, 
such  an  habitual  training  of  the  mind  as  will  im- 
part a  sermonizing  tendency  to  it.  The  human 
understanding,  by  discipline  and  practice,  may  be 
made  to  work  in  any  given  direction,  provided  it 
is  a  leo-itimate  one,  with  somethins;  of  the  uniform- 
ity  and  precision  and  rapidity  of  a  machine.  It 
can  be  so  habituated  to  certain  processes,  that  it 
shall  go  through  them  with  very  little  effort,  and 
yet  with  very  great  force.  "We  shall,  of  course,  not 
be  understood  as  advocating  a  material  philosophy, 
or  as  affirming  that  the  operations  of  the  mind  are 
really  mechanical.  We  are  only  directing  attention 
to  the  fact  acknowledged  by  all  philosophers,  that 
certain  mental  oj^erations, — such  as  the  logical,  the 
imaginative,  for  example, — may  be  ^o  fixed  by  exer- 
cise and  habit,  that  the  mind  may  perform  them 
with  an  ease,  and  a  readiness,  that  resembles  the 
operations  of  an  instinct,  or  a  machine.  Compare 
the  activity  of  an  intellect  that  has  been  habitu- 
ated to  the  processes  of  logic,  with  one  that  has 
had  little  or  no  exercise  in  this  direction.     AVith 


108  HOMILETICS. 

what  rapidity,  and  precision,  does  tlie  former  speed 
througli  the  process;  and  liow  slowly  and  uncer- 
tainly does  the  latter  drag  along.  The  former  has 
acquired  a  logical  tendency,  and  needs  only  to 
fasten  its  grasp  upon  a  subject  that  possesses  a 
logical  structure,  that  has  logic  in  it,  to  untie  it 
immediately,  and  untwist  it  entirely. 

Now,  in  relation  to  the  purposes  of  his  profes- 
sion and  calling,  the  preacher  ought  to  acquire  and 
cultivate  a  homiletical  habitude.  Preaching  is  his 
business.  For  this  he  has  educated  himself,  and  to 
this  he  has  consecrated  his  whole  life.  It  should, 
therefore,  obtain  undisputed  possession  of  his  mind 
and  his  culture.^  He  ought  not  to  pursue  any 
other  intellectual  calling  than  that  of  sermonizing. 
He  may,  therefore,  properly  .allow  this  species  of 
authorship  to  monopolize  all  his  discipline  and 
acquisitions.  It  is  as  fitting  that  the  preacher 
should  be  characterized  by  a  homiletical  tendency, 
as  that  the  poet  should  be  characterized  by  a  poet- 
ical tendency.  If  it  is  proper  that  the  poet  should 
transmute  every  thing  that  he  touches,  into  poetry, 
it  is  proper  that  the  preacher  should  transmute 
every  thing  that  he  touches,  into  sermon. 

'  "  We  are  told  of  a  Grecian  how  advance  with  greater  secu- 
gen^ral  who,  when  he  travelled  ritj ;  how  retreat  with  least  dan- 
and  viewed  the  country  around  ger.  Something  similar  to  this, 
him,  revolved  in  his  mind  how  an  should  be  the  practice  and  study 
army  might  be  there  drawn  up  of  a  public  speaker." — Leland  : 
to  the  greatest  advantage;  how  Preface  to  the  Orations  of  Demos- 
he  could  best  defend  himself,  if  thenes. 
attacked  from  such   a  quarter ; 


GEKERAL   JIAXIMS.  109 

This  Lomiletic  habit  will  appear  in  a  disposition 
to  skeletonize,  to  construct  plans,  to  examine  and 
criticise  discourses  with  respect  to  their  logical 
structure.  The  preacher's  mind  becomes  habitually 
organific.  It  is  inclined  to  build.  Whenever  lead- 
ing thoughts  are  brought  into  the  mind,  they  are 
straightway  dis2:)0sed  and  arranged  into  the  unity 
of  a  plan,  instead  of  being  allowed  to  lie  here  and 
there,  like  scattered  bowlders  on  a  field  of  drift. 
This  homiletic  habit  will  ai^pear,  again,  in  a  dispo- 
sition to  render  all  the  argumentative,  and  illustra- 
tive, materials  which  2^our  in  upon  the  educated 
man,  from  the  various  fields  of  science,  literature, 
and  art,  subservient  to  the  purposes  of  preaching. 
The  sermonizer  is,  or  should  be,  a  student,  and  an 
industrious  one,  a  reader,  and  a  thoughtful  one. 
He  will,  consequently,  in  the  course  of  his  studies, 
meet  with  a  great  variety  of  information  that  may 
be  advantageously  employed  in  sermonizing,  either 
as  proof  or  illustration,  provided  he  possesses  the 
proper  power  to  elaborate  it,  and  work  it  up.  Now, 
if  he  has  acquired  this  homiletic  mental  habit,  this 
tendency  to  sermonize,  all  this  material,  Avhich  would 
pass  through  another  mind  without  assimilation, 
will  be  instantaneously  and  constantly  taken  up, 
and  wrought  into  the  substance  and  form  of  ser- 
mons.^ 

'  These  Tutiterials   will  readily    into    the     preacher's     GommoQ 
ovcrtlow,   in  the  form  of  skelo-     Place  Book, 
tons,  metaphors,  illustrations,  etc. 


110  nOMILETICS. 

The  possession  of  sucli  an  intellectual  habitude 
as  this,  greatly  facilitates  immediate  preparation  for 
the  pulpit.  It  is,  virtually,  a  primary  preparation, 
from  which  the  secondary  and  more  direct  prepara- 
tion derives  its  precision,  thoroughness,  rapidity, 
and  effectiveness.  Without  it,  the  preacher  must 
be  continually  forced  up  to  an  unwelcome  and  unge- 
nial  task,  in  the  pre2:)aration  of  discourses,  instead 
of  finding  in  this  process  of  composition,  a  grateful 
vent  for  the  outflow  and  overflow  of  his  resources. 

2.  The  second  general  maxim  for  the  sermonizer 
is  this :  Form  a  Jdgh  ideal  of  a  sermon,  and  con- 
stantly aim  at  its  realization.  There  is  little  danger 
of  setting  a  standard  too  high,  provided  the  preach- 
er is  kept  earnestly  at  work  in  attempts  to  reach  it. 
The  influence  of  a  very  perfect  conception  of  a 
thing  is  sometimes  injurious,  upon  one  whose  men- 
tal processes  are  somewhat  morbid,  and  unhealthy. 
An  artist  whose  beau  ideal  is  high,  but  who  has 
little  productive  energy  and  vigor,  will  dream  away 
his  life  over  his  ideal,  and  accomplish  nothing ;  or 
else  fill  up  his  career,  as  an  artist,  with  a  series  of 
disappointed,  baffled  efforts.  Such  an  one  should 
content  himself,  in  the  outset  at  least,  with  a  some- 
what lower  idea  of  perfection,  and  rouse  himself  up 
to  more  vigor  and  energy  of  execution.  In  this 
way,  he  would  take  courage,  and  would  gradually 
elevate  his  standard,  and  carry  his  power  of  per- 
formance up  along  with  his  ideal.  But  if  there  be 
a  vigorous  willingness   to   work,  and   a   sincerely 


GENERAL   MAXHIS  111 

good  motive  at  tlie  bottom  of  mental  efforts,  there 
is  no  danger  of  aiming  too  liigh.  Though  the  per- 
fect idea  in  the  mind  will  never  be  realized, — for  a 
man's  ideal,  like  his  horizon,  is  constantly  receding 
from  him  as  he  advances  towards  it, — yet  the  grade 
of  excellence  actually  attained  will  be  far  higher, 
than  if  but  an  inferior,  or  even  a  moderate  standard 
is  assumed  in  the  outset. 

The  preacher's  idea  of  a  sermon  must,  therefore, 
be  as  full  and  perfect  as  j^ossible.  He  must  not  be 
content  with  an  inferior  grade  of  sermonizing,  but 
must  aim  to  make  his  discourses  as  excellent  in 
matter,  and  in  manner,  as  his  powers,  natural  and 
acquired,  will  possibly  allow.  And  esj^ecially  must 
he  subject  his  efforts  at  sermonizing  to  the  criticism 
and  the  discipline  of  a  high  ideal,  while  he  is  in 
the  preparatory  course  of  professional  education. 
It  is  probably  safe  to  say,  that  in  all  theological 
seminaries  too  many  sermons  are  written,  because 
the  conception  of  a  sermon  is  too  inadequate.  A 
higher  standard  would  diminish  the  quantity,  and 
improve  the  quality,  in  this  department  of  author- 
ship. We  are  well  aware  of  the  frequent  demands 
made  by  the  churches  upon  the  theological  student, 
before  he  has  entered  the  pastoral  office.  These 
demands  ought  to  be  met,  so  far  as  is  possible,  in 
view  of  the  lack  of  preachers  in  this  great  and 
growing  country.  And  yet  this  very  demand  calls 
for  great  resolution,  and  great  carefulness,  on  the 
part  of  the  professional  student.     He  should  not 


112  H0MILETIC3. 

court,  but  discourage  this  premature  draft  upon  Ms 
resources,  so  far  as  he  can  consistently  witli  a  wise 
regard  to  circumstances.  He  ought  to  insist  upon 
the  full  time,  in  which  to  prepare  for  a  life-long 
work, — a  work  that  will  task  the  best  discipline, 
and  the  ripest  culture  to  the  utmost.  He  ought  to 
keep  his  ideal  of  a  sermon  high  and  bright  before 
his  eye,  and  not  allow  his  mind,  by  the  frequency 
and  insufficiency  of  its  preparations,  to  become 
accustomed  to  inferior  performances,  because  this  is 
the  next  step  to  becoming  satisfied  with  them. 

It  is  possible,  as  we  have  already  remarked,  that 
a  high  model  may,  in  some  instances,  discourage 
efforts,  and  freeze  the  genial  currents  of  the  soul. 
But  in  this  age  of  intense  mental  action,  when  all 
men  are  thinking,  and  speaking,  and  writing,  there 
is  little  danger  in  recommending  a  high  standard  to 
the  professional  man.  Where  one  mind  will  be 
injured  by  it,  a  thousand  will  be  benefited.  More- 
over, if  there  only  be  a  vigorous  and  healthy  state 
of  mind, — a  disposition  to  act,  to  think,  and  to 
write, — on  the  part  of  the  clergyman,  there  is  little 
danger  of  his  becoming  unduly  fastidious,  or  mor- 
bidly nice.  Add  to  this  the  fact,  that  as  soon  as 
the  clergyman  has  once  entered  upon  the  active 
duties  of  his  profession,  necessity  is  laid  upon  him, 
and  he  Qiiust  compose,  nolens  volens,  and  we  have 
still  another  reason  why  a  high  ideal  is  not  liable, 
as  it  is  sometimes  in  the  case  of  the  artist  or  poet, 
to  impede  and  suppress  his  activity.     All  dispo- 


GENEEAL   MAXTMS.  113 

sition  to  brood  morbidly  over  pei'formances,  because 
■^hey  are  not  close  up  to  tbe  perfect  model  in  the 
mind,  will  be  broken  up  and  driven  to  the  four 
winds,  by  tbe  consideration,  that  on  next  Lord's  day 
two  sermons  must  be  preaclied,  at  tlie  call  of  tlie 
bell,  to  that  'expecting  and  expectant  congregation. 

We  are  also  aware,  that  it  is  possible  to  expend 
too  much  time  and  labor  upon  an  individual  ser- 
mon. Some  preachers,  and  some  ^'ery  celebrated 
in  theii'  day,  have  had  their  "  favorite  sermons,"  as 
they  are  styled, — sermons  upon  which  an  undue 
amount  of  pains  was  expended,  to  the  neglect  and 
serious  injury  of  the  rest  of  their  sermonizing.  A 
certain  American  preacher  is  said  to  have  rewritten 
one  particular  discourse,  more  than  ninety  times ! 
But  this  is  not  the  true  use  of  a  hio:h  ideaL  A  hio-h 
conception  ought  to  show  its  work,  and  its  power,  in 
every  sermon.  The  discourses  of  a  preacher  ought 
uniformly  to  bear  the  marks  of  a  lofty  aim.  Not 
that  one  sermon  will  be  as  excellent  as  another, 
any  more  than  one  subject  will  be  as  fertile  as  an- 
other. But  the  course  of  sermonizing,  year  after 
year,  ought  to  show  that  the  preacher  is  satisfied 
with  no  hasty,  perfunctory  performance  of  his 
duties, — that  there  is  constantly  floating  before  him, 
and  beckoning  him  on,  a  noble  and  high  idea  of 
what  a  sermon  always  should  be. 

There  is  little  danger,  however,  of  excessive 
elaboration  during  the  course  of  professional  study. 
The  theological  student  is  more  likely  to  under- 
8 


114  HOMILETICS. 

estimate  the  close  study  of  his  plans,  and  the  ela- 
borate cultivation  of  Ms  style  and  diction,  than  to 
overestimate  them.  He  is  apt  to  shrink  from  that 
persistent  self-denial  of  the  intellect,  which  confines 
it  to  long  and  laborious  efforts  upon  a  single  dis- 
course, instead  of  allowing  it  to  expatiate  amid  a 
greater  variety  of  themes.  The  student,  in  his  best 
estate,  is  too  little  inclined  to  that  thorough  elabo- 
ration, to  which  the  Ancient  orators  accustomed 
themselves,  in  the  production  of  their  master-pieces, 
and  which  exhibits  itself  equally  in  the  compactness 
and  completeness  of  the  organization,  and  in  the 
hard  finish  of  the  style.  "  The  prose  of  Demos- 
thenes," says  an  excellent  critic,  "  is,  in  its  kind,  as 
perfect  and  finished  as  metrical  composition.  For 
example,  the  greatest  attention  is  bestowed  by 
Demosthenes,  ujDon  the  sequence  of  long  and  short 
s^^llables,  not  in  order  to  produce  a  regularly  re- 
curring metre  but,  in  order  to  express  the  most 
diverse  emotions  of  the  mind,  by  a  suitable  and 
ever-varying  rhythm,  or  movement.  And  as  this 
prose  rhythm  never  passes  over  into  a  poetical 
metre,  so  the  language,  as  to  its  elements,  never 
loses  itself  in  the  sphere  of  poetry,  but  remains,  as 
the  language  of  oratory  ever  should,  that  of  ordi- 
nary life  and  cultivated  society.  And  the  uncom- 
mon charm  of  this  rhetorical  prose  lies  precisely  in 
this, — that  these  simj^le  elements  of  speech  are 
treated  with  the  same  care  which,  usually,  only  the 
poet  is  wont  to  devote   to  words.     Demosthenes 


GENERAL   MAXLMS.  115 

l.iuiself  was  well  aw^are  of  this  study  which  he  be- 
stowed upon  his  style,  and  he  required  it  in  the 
orator.  It  is  not  enough,  said  he,  that  the  orator, 
in  order  to  prepare  for  delivery  in  public,  write 
down  his  thoughts, — he  must,  as  it  were,  sculi^ture 
them  in  brass.  He  must  not  content  himself  with 
that  loose  use  of  lano:ua2:e  which  characterizes  a 
thoughtless  fluency,  but  his  words  must  have  a  pre- 
cise and  exact  look,  like  newdy  minted  coin,  with 
sharply-cut  edges  and  devices.  This  comparison  of 
prose  composition  with  sculpture,  appears  to  have 
been  a  favorite  one  W' ith  the  Ancient  rhetoricians ; 
as  Dionysius  also  remarks  of  Demosthenes,  Plato, 
and  Socrates,  '  their  productions  were  not  so  much 
works  of  waiting,  as  of  carving  and  embossing.'" - 
This  high  ideal,  both  in  matter  and  style,  should, 
therefore,  float  constantly  before  the  eye  of  the 
student,  during  his  whole  preparatory  course.  In 
this  way,  he  will  habituate  himself  to  intense  and 
careful  eflbrts  in  composition,  so  that  when  he  goes 
out  into  active  professional  life,  he  may,  when  com- 
pelled to  do  so  by  the  stress  of  circumstances,  even 
relax  something  of  this  strain  and  tension  of  intel- 
lect, and  yet  throw  oif  with  rapidity  sermons  that 
will  be  highly  methodical,  and  highly  finished,  be- 
cause this  style  of  sermonizing  has  become  natural 
to  him.  By  this  severe  discij^line  of  himself  in  the 
beginning,  he  will  have  acquired  the  right  to  be 

*  Theremin  :  Demosthenes  iind  Massillon,  p.  142. 


116  H0MILETIC9. 

daring,  and  careless,  when  compelled  to  be,  by  the 
stress  of  circumstances ;  and  what  is  more,  he  will 
have  acquired  the  ability  to  be  so,  without  disgrace 
to  his  calling,  and  with  success  in  it. 

3.  A  third  general  maxim  for  the  sermonizer  is 
this  :  In  immediate  preparation  for  the  pidpit^  malce 
no  use  of  tlie  immediate  preparation  of  other  minds^ 
hut  rely  solely  upon  personal  resources.  This  maxim 
forbids  the  use  of  the  skeletons  and  sermons  of 
other  sermonizers,  in  the  process  of  composition. 
Such  a  general  preparation  as  has  been  described, 
namely,  a  homiletic  mental  habit  conjoined  with  a 
high  ideal,  renders  this  help  unnecessary.  Such  a 
sermonizer  is  strong  in  himself,  and  needs  no  sup- 
ports or  crutches ;  such  a  preacher  is  rich  in  himself, 
and  does  not  need  to  borrow.  He  prefers  to  follow 
the  leadings  of  his  own  well  disciplined  and  well 
informed  mind,  rather  than  to  adjust  himself  to  the 
movements  of  another,  however  firm  and  consecu- 
tive they  may  be. 

In  this  day,  when  so  many  aids  to  sermonizing 
are  being  furnished,  it  is  well  to  form  a  correct  esti- 
mate of  their  real  value.  These  collections  of  skele- 
tons and  plans,  more  or  less  filled  up,  which  seem 
to  be  multiplying  along  with  the  general  multipli- 
cation of  books,  ought  to  be  entirely  neglected  and 
rejected,  by  both  the  theological  student  and  the 
preacher.  As  matter  of  fixct,  they  are  neglected  by 
all  vigorous  and  effective  sermonizers.  They  are 
the  resort  of  the  indolent  and  unfaithful  alone. 


GENERAL   IIAXDIS.  117 

The  only  plausible  reason  that  can  be  urged  for 
using  tliem  is,  tliat  tliey  furnisli  material  for  tlie 
study  of  plans, — tliat  they  are  necessary  to  the 
acquisition  of  the  art  of  skeletonizing.  But  a  good 
collection  of  sermons  is  of  far  more  worth  for  this 
purpose.  There  is  very  little  discipline,  in  looking 
over  a  plan  that  has  been  eliminated  from  a  sermon, 
by  another  mind.  But  there  is  very  great  discipline, 
in  taking  the  sermon  itself,  and  eliminating  the 
plan  for  ourselves.  In  the  first  instance,  the  mind 
is  passive,  in  the  second  it  is  active.  The  plan  of  a 
truly  excellent  discourse  is  so  identified  with  the 
discourse,  is  so  thoroughly  organic  and  one  with 
the  filling  up,  that  it  requires  great  judgment  and 
close  examination  to  dissect  it,  and  separate  it  from 
the  mass  of  thought,  in  which  it  is  lightly,  yet 
strongly  imbedded.  Why  then  lose  all  the  benefits 
of  this  examination,  and  exertion  of  judgment,  by 
employing  the  collector  of  skeletons  to  do  this  work 
for  us  ?  Why  not  take  the  living  structure  to  pieces 
ourselves,  and  derive  the  same  knowledge  and  skill 
thereby,  which  the  anatomist  acquires  from  a  per- 
sonal dissection  of  a  subject  ?  It  is  only  by  actual 
analysis,  that  actual  synthesis  becomes  possible.  It 
is  only  by  an  actual  examination  of  the  parts  of  an 
oration,  and  an  actual  disentanglement  of  them 
from  the  matter  of  the  discourse,  that  we  can  ac- 
quire the  ability  of  putting  parts  together,  and 
building  up  a  methodical  structure  ourselves.  In 
stead,  therefore,  of  buying  a  collection  of  skeletons, 


118  noiaiLETics. 

the  student  and  preacher  should  buy  a  collection  of 
sermons,  and  obtain  the  discipline  which  he  needs, 
from  a  close  and  careful  study  of  their  logical  struc- 
ture and  rhetorical  properties.  For,  in  this  way,  he 
will  acquire  both  a  logical  and  a  rhetorical  discipline. 
If  he  studies  a  skeleton  merely,  logical  disci23line  is 
the  most  he  can  obtain;  and  this  too,  as  we  have 
seen,  in  only  an  inferior  degree.  If,  on  the  other 
hand,  he  studies  a  sermon,  while  the  effort  to  detect 
and  take  out  the  plan  that  is  in  it  will  go  to  impart 
a  fine  logical  talent,  a  line  constructive  ability,  the 
attention  which  will  at  the  same  time  be  given  to 
the  style,  illustration,  and  diction  of  the  discourse 
as  a  whole,  will  go  to  impart  a  fine  rhetorical  talent 
also.  The  method  of  criticism  will  correspond  to 
the  method  of  production.  As  the  sermon  came 
into  existence  in  a  growth-like  way, — plan  and  fill- 
ing up,  skeleton  and  flesh,  all  together, — so  it  will  be 
examined  in  the  same  natural  method.  The  skele- 
ton will  not  be  contemplated  alone,  and  isolated 
from  the  thoughts  which  it  supports  ;  neither  will 
the  thoughts  be  examined  in  a  state  of  separation 
from  the  plan  of  the  whole  fabric.  The  method  of 
criticism,  like  the  method  of  authorship,  will  be  the 
method  of  nature.^ 

But  when  these  collections  of  plans   are  seri- 


'  The  careful   analysis  of  such  more   valuable,  tlian   to  read   a 

sermons  as  those  of  South,  Bar-  hundred  treatises  upon  rlietoric, 

row,  and  Saurin,  would  be  a  dis-  without  it. 
ciplino   for   the   young  preacher 


GEKEEAL   MAXDIS.  119 

ously  offered  to  tlie  preaclier,  as  sources  from 
which  to  derive  tlie  foundations  of  liis  sermons, 
nothing  can  be  said  in  their  recommendation,  either 
on  the  score  of  literature  or  morality.  An  English 
treatise  upon  the  art'of  sermonizing,  which  is  filled 
up  with  very  full  plans  of  sermons  by  various  dis- 
tinguished preachers,  contains  such  remarks  as  the 
following :  "  An  immense  number  of  examples,  in 
which  passages  are  laid  out  in  logical  order,  are  to 
be  found  in  Burkitt  on  the  IST.  T.,  and  more  espe- 
ciall)^  in  Henry,  and  these  may  be  often  turned  to 
good  account.  Some  ministers  are  very  cautious  of 
using  any  of  these  plans,  because  the  volumes  of 
Burkitt  and  Henry  are  possessed  by  many  fami- 
lies; but  surely  some  new  casting  might  easily 
be  devised  that  would  give  the  air  of  novelty,  and 
please  the  fastidious,  if  they  be  thought  worth  the 
pleasing."  Again,  he  says :  "  I  do  not  wish  to 
draw  you  from  your  independent  study,  and  the 
resources  of  your  own  minds;  but  if  at  any  time 
you  feel  indisposed  tovrards  mental  labor,  or  time 
will  not  allow  you  to  enter  upon  it,  regard  it  as 
perfectly  lawful  to  avail  yourselves  of  the  materials 
furnished  by  such  an  a\ithor  as  Henry."  Again,  he 
observes :  "  As  to  Burkitt,  he  is  full  of  both  long 
and  short  skeletons,  that  is,  skeletons  upon  long 
and  short  passages,  which  a  little  pains  would  so 
modernize,  that  when  our  knowing  peo^^le  saw  their 
old  friend  with  a  new  face,  they  certainly  would 
not  recognize  him  again.     This  is,  I  supj^ose,  what 


120  HOMILETICS. 

we  wish,  when  we  find  ourselves  out  of  condition 
for  close  study,  or  have  not  time  for  it."  The 
author  then  goes  on  to  say,  with  an  innocent  sim- 
plicity that  is  quite  charming,  that  "  it  is  necessary 
to  obtain  a  knowledge  of  Burkitt's  key-words,  his 
'■  Observe,'  his  '  Note,'  his  '  Learn.'  When  he  says 
'  Observe,'  he  is  about  to  give  you  a  head  or  divi- 
sion of  the  passage,  in  an  expository  view,"  &c.,  &c} 
Now,  such  recommendations  as  these,  are  both 
illiterate  and  immoral.  No  scholar,  no  preacher 
who  has  even  a  becoming  regard  for  the  literary 
character,  to  say  nothing  of  the  edifying  character, 
of  his  sermonizing,  could  possibly  subject  his  intel- 
lect to  such  copying.  A  proper  estimate  of  the 
sermon  as  a  piece  of  authorship,  if  nothing  more. 


^Sturtkvant:  Manual,  pp.  try  to  compose  one  every  month." 
57,  58,  59. — The  views  in  the  The  English  Churchman  contains 
English  Church  are  very  indul-  the  following  announcement: 
gent,  in  reference  to  preparations  "  A  clergyman  of  experience  and 
for  the  pulpit.  Archdeacon  Paley,  moderate  views,  who  distinguish- 
in  a  sermon  to  the  young  clergy  ed  himself  during  his  university 
of  Carlisle,  addresses  them  as  fol-  course,  in  Divinity  and  English 
lows :  "  There  is  another  resource,  Composition,  will  furnish  original 
by  which  your  time  may  be  occu-  sermons,  in  strict  accordance  with 
pied,  which  you  have  forgot,  in  the  Church  of  England,  in  a  legi- 
urging  that  your  time  will  hang  bio  hand,  at  5s.  Gd.  each.  Only 
heavy  upon  you.  I  mean  the  one  copy  will  be  given  in  any 
composition  of  sermons.  I  am  diocese.  A  specimen  will  be 
far  from  refusing  you  the  benefit  sent,  if  wished  for.  Sermons 
of  other  men's  labors ;  I  only  re-  made  to  order,  on  any  required 
quire  that  they  be  called  in,  not  subject,  on  reasonable  terms. 
to  flatter  laziness,  but  to  assist  in-  For  further  particulars  apply," 
dustry.  You  find  yourself  unable  &c. 
to  furnish  a  sermon  every  week ; 


GEKEEAL   MAXIMS.  121 

would  lead  tlie  sacred  orator  to  desj^ise  sucli  servile 
artifices,  from  wliicli  nothing  but  an  artificial  pro- 
duct could  result.  Upon  sucli  a  method  as  this, 
the  whole  department  of  Sacred  Eloquence  Avould 
lose  all  its  freshness  and  originality,  and  would  die 
out.  "Dull  as  a  sermon"  would  be  a  phrase  more 
true,  and  more  significant,  than  it  is  now. 

But  upon  the  score  of  morality,  this  act  of  steal- 
ing sermons  is  utterly  indefensible.  A  j^reacher 
ought  to  be  an  honest  man  throughout.  Sincerity, 
godly  sincerity,  should  characterize  him  intellectu- 
ally, as  well  as  morally.  His  plans  ought  to  be 
the  genuine  w^ork  of  his  own  brain.  Not  that  he 
may  not,  at  times,  present  a  plan  and  train  of 
thought  similar  to  those  of  other  minds;  but  he 
ou2:ht  not  to  know  of  it  at  the  time.  Such  coinci- 
deuces  ought  to  be  undesigned ;  the  result  of  two 
minds  working  upon  a  similar  or  the  same  subject, 
each  in  an  independent  way,  and  with  no  inter- 
communication. Then  the  product  belongs  to 
both  alike,  and  the  coincidence  results  from  the 
common  nature  of  truth,  and  the  common  structure 
of  the  human  mind ;  and  not  from  a  servile  copy- 
ing of  one  mind  by  another. 

Beside  this  critical  study  of  tlie  best  sermon- 
izers,  in  the  several  languages  with  which  the 
preacher  may  be  acquainted,  he  should  be  a  dili- 
gent student  of  the  standard  theological  treatises 
in  them.  There  are,  in  each  of  the  leading  litera- 
tui'es  of  the  modern  world,  and  also  in  the  patristic 


122  HOMILETICS. 

Greek  and  Latin,  a  few  treatises  wliicli  are  so 
tliorouglily  scriptural  in  their  matter,  and  so 
systematic  in  their  structure,  that  they  cannot 
be  outgrown  by  either  the  theologian  or  the  ser- 
monizer.  U23on  these,  in  connection  with  a  faithful 
study  of  the  Scriptures  themselves,  the  preacher 
ought  to  bestow  his  time.  This  method  of  prepa- 
ring for  the  process  of  composition,  unlike  that 
indolent  method  of  having  recourse  to  the  plans 
and  sermons  of  others,  strengthens  and  enriches  the 
intellect.  The  preacher  daily  becomes  a  more  dis- 
criminating exegete,  a  more  profound  theologian,  a 
more  natural  rhetorician  ;  and  the  end  of  his  minis- 
terial career  finds  him  as  thoughtful,  and  as  fertile 
a  sermonizer  as  ever. 

The  union  of  a  close  critical  study  of  the 
Scriptures  themselves,  with  a  thorough  and  con- 
tinuous study  of  those  sterling  theological  treatises 
which,  because  they  have  grown  up  out  of  the 
Scriptures,  partake  most  of  their  root  and  fatness, 
cannot  be  too  earnestly  recommended  to  the  ser- 
monizer, as  the  best  general  preparation  for  direct 
and  particular  preparation  for  the  pulpit.  The 
time  and  ability  of  the  preacher,  in  this  age  of 
innumerable  small  books,  upon  innumerable  small 
subjects,  is  too  often  expended  upon  inferior  pro- 
ductions. Let  him  dare  to  be  icrnorant  of  this 
transitory  literatui^e,  whether  sacred  or  secular,  that 
he  may  become  acquainted  with  the  Bible  itself 
and  those  master -works  of  master-minds  which  con 


GENEEAL   MAXIMS.  123 

tain  the  methodized  substance  of  the  Bible,  and 
breathe  its  warmest,  deepest  inspiration. 

Intimately  connected  with  this  study  of  the 
Bible,  and  of  theological  systems  and  treatises,  is 
the  study  of  philosophy.  This  point  merits  a 
fuller  treatment  than  is  2'>ossible  within  our  limits. 
We  would  only  briefly  remark,  that  the  study  of 
philosophy,  rightly  pursued,  is  a  great  aid  to  the 
theologian  and  the  preacher..  If  the  department  of 
philosophy  be  employed  rather  as  a  means  of  dis- 
ciplining the  'mind,  and  of  furnishing  a  good 
onethod  of  developing  and  presenting  truth,  than  as 
a  source  whence  the  truth  itself  is  to  be  taken,  it 
becomes  the  handmaid  of  theology  and  religion. 
If,  on  the  contrary,  it  is  regarded  as  the  source  of 
truth,  and  the  theologian  and  preacher  seeks  his 
subject-matter  from  the  finite  reason  of  man,  instead 
of  from  the  Supreme  Reason  as  it  has  revealed 
itself  in  the  Scriptures,  then  the  influence  of  23hilo- 
sophical  studies  is  most  injurious.  But  this  is  not 
the  true  idea  of  philosophy.  Bacon  called  his 
philosophical  system  the  "novum  organum,"  the 
new  organ,  or  instrument,  by  means  of  which  truth 
was  to  be  developed,  established,  and  applied.  lie 
did  not  style  it  a  new  revelation  of  truth,  but  a 
new  medium  of  truth. 

If,  now,  the  theologian  and  preacher  adopts  this 
true  and  rational  view  of  the  nature  of  philosophy, 
if  he  regards  it  as  a  means  whereby  his  mind  obtains 
the  best  method  of  developing,  and  not  of  origina- 


124  HOMELETICS. 

ting  truth,  if  lie  views  it  as  a  simple  key  to  unlock 
tlie  casket  wliicli  contains  tlie  treasure,  and  not  as 
tlie  treasure  itself,  or  even  tke  casket, — if  tlie  theo- 
logian and  preacher  adopts  this  sober  and  rational 
view  of  the  nature  and  uses  of  philosophy,  he  will 
find  it  of  great  assistance.  All  that  part  of  rhetoric 
which  treats  of  plan  and  invention,  all  the  organ- 
izing part  of  rhetoric,  is  most  intimately  connected 
with  philosoj)hy.  Moreover,  a  correct  knowledge 
of  the  laws  of  the  human  mind,  a  correct  idea  of 
the  relation  of  truth  to  the  human  mind,  and  a  cor- 
rect method  of  enucleating  and  establishing  truth, 
cannot  be  acquired  with  out  the  discipline  that  re- 
sults from  philosophical  studies ;  and  without  such 
knowledge,  the  23reacher  can  neither  think  pro- 
foundly and  consecutively,  nor  discourse  clearly  and 
forcibly.^ 

4.  The  fourth  general  direction  for  the  sermon- 
izer  is  this :  Maintain  a  spiritual  inind.  This 
direction  is  a  practical  one,  and  while  it  includes  all 
that  is  implied  in  the  common  injunction  for  all 
Christians,  to  cultivate  j)ersonal  piety,  it  is  more 
specific  in  reference  to  the  necessities  of  the  preacher. 
By  a  spiritual  mind,  in  this  connection,  is  meant 

*  Says  Jon^r  Edwahds,   in  liis  cultivating    of      our    though  ts. 

work  on  Preaching:     "As    for  "Whence  it  is,   that    unthinking 

metaphysics,  it  cannot  be  denied  persons,    and  those  that    never 

that  they  are  useful  to  the  help-  study  for  accuracy  of  conceptions, 

ing  us  to  a  clear  and  distinct  ap-  hate  this  sort  of  learning,  as  much 

prehension  of  things,  and  to  the  as  a  deist  doth  creeds  and  cate- 

enlarging  of  our  minds,  and  the  chisms."— Preface  to  Pt.  I. 


GEN-EEAL   MAATMS.  125 

that  solemn  and  serious  mental  frame  wliich  is  nat- 
nralty,  and  constantly,  occupied  with  eternal  realities.. 
Some  Christians  seem  to  be  much  more  at  home  in 
the  invisible  realm  of  religion,  than  others.  They 
are  characterized  by  a  uniformly  earnest  and  un- 
earthly temper,  as  if  their  eye  were  fixed  upon 
something  beyond  the  horizon  of  this  world ;  as  if 
they  saw  more,  and  saw  further,  than  thoughtless 
and  unspiritual  men  about  them.  Their  eye  is  fixed 
upon  something  beyond  time  and  sense,  and  they 
do  see  more,  far  more,  of  "the  things  unseen  and 
eternal,"  than  the  averao-e  of  Christians. 

Now,  this  mental  temper  is  of  great  worth  to  the 
preacher.  Aside  from  the  fact  that  one  who  pos- 
sesses it,  is  always  in  tlie  vein  for  writing  or  speaking 
upon  religious  themes,  such  a  one  discourses  with 
an  earnest  sincerity  that  is  always  impressive  and 
effective.  He  speaks  seriously,  because  he  under- 
stands the  nature  of  his  subject.  He  S2:)eaks  clearly 
and  distinctly,  because  this  spiritual-mindeduess 
makes  him  substantially  an  eye-witness  of  eternal 
realities.  He  speaks  convincingly,  because  he  knows 
what  he  says,  and  whereof  he  affiiTus. 

Let  the  preacher,  ^then,  maintain  a  spiritual 
mind, — a  mind  that  is  not  dazzled  with  the  glare 
of  earth,  that  is  too  solemn  to  be  impressed  by  the 
vanities  of  time,  and  made  habitually  serious  by 
seeincj  Him  who  is  invisible.  Dwellinf]^  amonc:  the 
things  that  are  unseen  and  eternal,  such  an  orator 
when  he  comes  forth  to  address  volatile  and  worldly 


126  HOMILETICS. 

men,  will  si:)ealv  witli  a  deptli  and  seriousness  of 
view,  and  an  energy  and  pungency  of  statement, 
that  will  leave  tliem  tlioughtful  and  anxious.  With- 
out this  abiding  sense  of  tlie  reality  and  awfulness 
of  eternal  things,  though  the  preacher  may  send 
men  away  entertained  and  dazzled,  he  cannot  send 
them  away  thinking  upon  themselves,  and  upon 
their  prospects  for  eternity.  And  of  what  worth  is 
a  sermon  that  does  not  do  this  ?  The  principal  lack 
in  the  current  preaching  is  not  so  much  in  the  matter, 
as  in  the  manner.  There  is  truth  sufficient  to  save 
the  soul,  in  most  of  the  sermons  that  are  delivered ; 
but  it  is  not  so  fused  with  the  speaker's  personal  con- 
victions, and  presented  in  such  living  contact  with 
the  hearer's  fears,  hopes,  and  needs,  as  to  make  the 
impression  of  stern  reality.  The  pulpit  must  be- 
come more  intense  in  manner,  or  the  "  form  of  sound 
words  "  will  lose  its  power. 


CHAPTER    V. 

SPECIAL  JIAXIMS  FOR  SERMONIZING. 

Having,  ia  tlie  preceding  chapter,  laid  down 
some  rules  for  the  general  prej^aration  for  sermon- 
izing, we  proceed  to  give  some  maxims  for  the  im- 
mediate prej^aration  of  sermons.  If  the  preacher  has 
fitted  himself  for  the  direct  composition  of  dis- 
courses, by  acquiring  a  homiletic  mental  habit,  by 
forming  a  high  ideal  of  a  sermon,  by  training  him- 
self to  self-reliance,  and  by  uniformly  maintaining  a 
serious  and  S2:)iritual  mind,  he  is  ready  to  compose 
sermons  always  and  everywhere.  He  is  a  workman 
that  has  learned  his  craft,  and  is  in  possession  of  a 
constructive  talent  which  he  can  use  whenever  he 
is  called  upon.  But  these  general  maxims  need  to 
be  supplemented  by  some  particular  rules,  relating 
to  the  process  of  composition  itself,  and  these  we 
now  proceed  to  specify. 

1.  Before  beginning  the  composition  of  a  sermon, 
bring  loth  the  intellect  and  the  heart,  into  a  fervid 
and  aioalcened  condition.  Although  this  general 
preparation  for  sermonizing,   of    which  we   have 


128  nOilTLETICS. 

spoken,  will  naturally  keep  tlie  mind  and  heart 
more  or  less  active,  still  there  will  be  need  of  more 
than  this  ordinary  wakefulness,  in  order  that  the 
preacher  may  do  his  best  work.  Such  a  general 
preparation,  it  is  true,  will  prevent  the  sermouizer 
from  being  a  dull  and  lethargic  man,  but  he  will 
need  some  more  immediate  stimulation  than  this,  in 
order  that  he  may  compose  with  the  utmost  energy 
and  vigor  j^ossible.  As,  in  the  chemical  process  of 
crystallization,  a  smart  stroke  upon  the  vessel,  in 
which  the  solution  has  been  slowly  preparing  for 
the  magical  change  from  a  dull  fluid  to  a  bright  and 
sparkling  solid,  will  accelerate  the  movement,  and 
render  the  process  seemingly  an  instantaneous  one ; 
so,  a  sort  of  shock  given  to  the  mind,  filled  as  it  is 
with  rich  stores,  and  possessed  as  it  is  by  a  homi- 
letic  habit,  will  contribute  greatly  to  the  rapid  and 
vigorous  construction  of  a  sermon. 

Some  agitation  and  concussion  is  requisite,  in 
order  to  the  most  efficient  exercise  of  the  under- 
standing. The  mental  powers  need  to  be  in  an 
aroused  condition, — so  to  speak,  in  a  state  of  exal- 
tation,—in  order  to  work  with  thoroughness,  and  en- 
ergy. Hence,  some  very  distinguished  literary  men 
have  been  wont  to  resort  to  the  stimulus  of  druGjs, 
or  of  alcohol,  to  produce  that  inward  excitement 
which  is  needed,  in  order  to  the  original  and  power- 
ful action  of  the  intellect.  Poets  and  orators,  in 
particular,  feel  the  need  of  this  intellectual  fermen- 
tation, and  hence   the   instances  of  such  artificial 


SPECIAL    MAXDI3.  129 

stimulation  of  the  intellectual  powers  are  most  com- 
mon among  tliese.  The  preaclier  is  precluded  by 
Christian  j^rinciple,  from  the  use  of  such  means  of 
rousing  and  kindling  his  mind,  even  if  the  lower 
prudential  motives  should  not  j^revail  with  him. 
For  the  mind,  like  the  body,  is  fearfully  injured  by 
artificial  and  unnatural  stimulation.  Minds  which 
have  been  accustomed  to  it,  and  have  been  forced 
up  in  this  unnatural  way  to  unnatural  efforts,  show 
the  effects  of  such  treatment,  in  premature  debility, 
and  commonly  in  final  insanity  or  idiocy. 

The  true  and  proper  stimulant  for  the  intellect 
is  truth.  There  is  no  sin  in  being  excited  by 
tiTith.  There  is  no  mental  injury  in  such  excitement. 
The  more  thoroughly  the  intellect  is  roused  and 
kindled  by  a  living  verity,  the  more  intensely  it  is 
affected  and  energized  by  it,  the  better  is  it  for  the 
intellect,  and  the  man.  In  order,  therefore,  that 
the  sermonizer  may  produce  within  his  mind  that 
excitement  which  is  needed  in  order  to  original 
and  vigorous  composition,  let  him  possess  it  with 
some  single  truth  adapted  to  this  purpose.  And 
this,  from  the  nature  of  the  case,  should  be  that 
leading  idea  which  he  proposes  to  embody  in  his 
discourse.  Every  sermon  ought  to  be  characterized 
by  unity, — a  unity  arising  from  the  presence,  and 
the  presidency,  within  it  of  some  one  leading 
thought.  The  tlieme,  or  jyroposition  of  the  sermon 
should,  therefore,  be  that  particular  truth  by  which 
the  sacred  orator  should  excite  his  intellect,  and 


130  no:MrLETics. 

awaken  liis  powers  to  an  intenser  activity.  If  tlie 
preacher  is  not  able  to  set  Ms  mind  into  a  glow  and 
fervor,  by  liis  subject,  let  him  not  seek  otlier  means 
of  excitement,  but  let  him  ponder  tke  fact  of  his 
apatliy,  until  lie  is  filled  witk  sliame  and  sorrow. 
Let  him  remember,  that  if  he  is  not  interested  in 
the  truth,'  if  divine  truth  has  no  power  to  quicken 
and  rouse  his  intellectual  faculties,  he  lacks  the  first 
qualification  for  sermonizing. 

But  the  sermonizer  who  has  made  that  great 
general  preparation  for  his  work,  of  which  we  have 
spoken,  will  find  all  the  stimulation  he  needs,  in  his 
theme.  It  will  be  taken  from  the  circle  of  truths 
in  which  he  has  become  most  interested,  both  by 
the  habits  of  his  mind,  and  by  his  general  culture. 
It  will  be  suggested  to  him  by  his  own  spiritual 
wants,  and  those  of  his  audience.  It  will  have 
direct  reference  to  the  supply  of  these  wants.  Let 
the  preacher,  then,  so  far  as  intellectual  excitement 
is  concerned,  so  fill  his  mind  with  the  particular 
idea  of  the  discourse  which  he  is  about  to  prepare, 
that  all  inaction  and  lethargy  shall  be  banished  at 
once.  Let  him,  before  beii-iunino;  the  construction 
of  a  sermon,  set  all  his  mental  powers  into  a  living 
play,  by  the  single  leading  truth  he  would  embody 
in  it. 

But,  besides  this  intellectual  awakening,  some 
more  than  ordinary  enlivenment  oi  the  feelings  and 
affections  is  needed,  iu  order  to  vigorous  and  elo- 
quent composition.     And  this  is  especially  true  of 


SPECIAL   MAXIMS.  131 

the  composition  of  sermons, — one  main  purpose  of 
wliicli  is,  to  reaeli  tlie  affections  and  feelings  of  the 
human  soul.  Without  that  warm  glow  which 
comes  from  a  warm  heart,  the  purely  intellectual 
excitement,  of  which  ^ve  have  spoken,  will  fail  to 
influence  the  hearer,  in  the  way  of  emotion  and 
action.  A  purely  intellectual  force  and  energy 
may  arrest  and  interest  an  audience,  but  taken  by 
itself,  it  cannot  persuade  their  wills,  or  melt  their 
hearts.  The  best  sermons  of  a  preacher  are  gene- 
rally composed  under  the  impulse  of  a  lively  state 
of  religious  feeling.  If  preachers  should  be  called 
to  testify,  they  would  state  that  those  discourses 
which  were  written  when  they  were  in  their  best 
mood  as  Christians,  constitute  the  best  portion  of 
their  authorship. 

The  sermonizer,  therefore,  should  seek  for  a 
more  than  ordinary  quickening  of  his  emotions  and 
affections,  as  he  begins  the  work  of  immediate  pre- 
paration for  the  pulpit.  It  is  difficult  to  lay  down 
rules  for  the  attainment  of  this  state  of  feeling,  that 
will  be  suited  to  every  one.  Each  individual 
Christian  is  apt  to  know  the  best  means  of  rousing 
his  own  mind  and  heart,  and  hence  it  is  better  to 
leave  the  j^ei'son  himself  to  make  a  choice,  out  of 
the  variety  that  are  at  his  command.  Generally 
speaking,  however,  any  thing  that  contributes  to 
awaken  in  the  soul  a  livelier  sense  of  the  excellence 
of  divine  things,  any  thing  that  tends  to  stir  and 
quicken  the  Christian  affections,  ^vill   furnish   the 


133  HOMILETICS. 

preacher  wLat  he  needs  in  order  to  vigorous  com- 
position. Proljably,  therefore,  no  better  advice  can 
be  given  to  the  sacred  orator,  in  the  respect  of 
which  we  are  speaking,  than  that  very  same  advice 
which  he  gives  to  the  common  Christian,  when  he 
asks  for  the  best  means  and  methods  of  quickening 
his  religious  affections.  It  has  been  said  by  one  of 
the  most  j)rofound,  and  devout  minds  in  English 
literature,  that  "  an  hour  of  solitude  passed  in  sin- 
cere and  earnest  prayer,  or  th6  conflict  with,  and 
conquest  over,  a  single  j^assion  or  subtle  bosom  sin, 
will  teach  us  more  of  thought,  will  more  effectually 
awaken  the  faculty  and  form  the  habit  of  reflection, 
than  a  year's  study  in  the  schools  without  them." 
If  prayer  and  Christian  self-discipline  do  this  for 
the  habits  of  thought,  most  certainly  will  they  do 
the  same  for  the  habits  of  feelinor.  If  an  hour  of 
serious  self-examination  and  self-mortification,  or  an 
hour  of  devout  meditation  and  earnest  prayer,  does 
not  set  the  affections  of  the  preacher  into  a  glow, 
probably  nothing  in  the  way  of  means  can.  The 
greatest  preachers  have,  consequently,  been  in  the 
habit  of  preparing  for  composition  by  a  season  of 
prayer  and  meditation.  The  maxim  of  Luther, 
hene  orasse,  est  hene  sfudmsse,  is  familiar  to  all. 
Augustine  says :  "  Let  our  Christian  orator  who 
^vould  be  understood  and  heard  with  pleasure, 
pray  before  he  speak.  Let  him  lift  up  his  thirsty 
soul  to  God,  before  he  pronounce  any  thing." 
Erasmus,  a  man  in  whom  the  intellectual  was  more 


SPECIAL  MAXniS.  133 

prominent  tlian  tlie  spiritual  and  devotional,  yet 
observes,  tliat  "  it  is  incredible,  how  miicli  liglit, 
how  mucli  vigor,  how  much  force  and  vitality,  is 
imparted  to  the  clergyman  by  deep  earnest  suppli- 
cation." And  the  pagan  Pericles,  accordhig  to 
Plutarch,  "was  accustomed,  whenever  he  was  to 
speak  in  jDublic,  previously  to  entreat  the  gods, 
that  he  might  not  utter  against  his  will  any  word 
that  should  not  belong  to  his  subject." 

By  filling  his  mind  with  his  theme,  and  awaken- 
ing his  religious  affections  by  prayer  and  devout 
meditation,  the  sacred  orator  will  bring  his  whole 
inner  being  into  that  awakened  and  exalted  condi- 
tion, which  prepares  for  dh-ect  and  rapid  composi- 
tion. He  will  become  a  roused  man,  and  will  find 
all  his  faculties  of  cognition  and  feeling,  in  free  and 
living  action. 

2.  And  this  brin2:s  us  to  the  second  maxim  for 
facilitating  the  process  of  composition,  which  is : 
Compose  continuously.  When  the  preacher  has 
made  all  the  preparation,  general  and  particular, 
of  which  we  have  spoken,  and  his  mind  and  heart 
are  ready  to  work,  he  should  proceed  in  the 
composition  of  a  sermon  without  intermission. 
The  intellect  works  with  far  the  greatest  intensity 
and  energy,  when  it  works  continuously.  It  ac- 
quires strength  by  motion,  and  hence  a  stop  in  its 
action  diminishes  its  force.  When,  therefore,  a  full 
preparation  for  its  agency  has  been  made,  it  ought 
to  be  allowed,  or  if  need  be,  compelled,  to  work  as 


134  nOMILETICS. 

hard  and  as  long  as  is  compatible  witli  the  physi- 
cal structure  of  the  individual.  Some  men  are 
capable  of  much  more  protracted  mental  efforts, 
than  others;  though,  in  this  case,  the  mental  j^ro- 
cesses  themselves  are  apt  to  be  much  slower. 
When  the  mind  moves  with  rapidity,  it  is  unable 
to  continue  in  motion  so  long  as  when  its  move- 
ments are  more  dull  and  heavy.  Each  man  should 
know  himself  in  these  respects,  and  understand 
how  much  his  mind  and  body  can  endure  without 
injury.  Having  this  knowledge,  he  ought  then 
to  subject  himself  to  as  intense,  and  as  long  con- 
tinued composition,  as  is  possible.  Having  seated 
himself  at  his  writing-desk,  he  ought  not  to  lay 
down  his  pen,  until  he  has  tired  himself  by  the 
process  of  original  composition.  Then  let  him 
unbend  in  good  earnest,  and  allow  his  mind  and  his 
body  a  real  genuine  relaxation. 

Too  many  sermons  are  composed  during  an  inter- 
mittent activity  of  the  mind  which  does  not  draw 
upon  its  deepest  resources,  and  its  best  power. 
The  sermon  is  the  product  of  a  series  of  isolated 
efforts,  instead  of  one  long,  strong  application.  It 
wears,  consequently,  a  fragmentary  character  and 
appearance,  as  if  it  were  written  one  sentence  at  a 
time,  or  each  paragraph  by  itself.  Even  if  there 
is  a  connection  of  the  parts,  there  is  no  fusion  of 
them.     Even  if  the  discourse  has  method,  it  has  no 


glow. 


"  Write  with  fury,  and  correct  with  phlegm," 


SPECIAL   MAXIMS.  135 

is  admiraLle  advice  for  the  sermonizer.  But  it  is 
imjDossible  to  rouse  tliis  fury  of  tlie  mind,  except 
by  a  continuous  api^lication  of  its  energies.  If 
the  composer  stops  for  a  season,  his  intellect 
begins  to  cool  again,  and  much  of  the  energy  of  his 
succeeding  effort  is  absorbed  in  bringing  it  up  to 
the  same  degree  of  ardor,  at  wliich  it  stood  at  the 
close  of  the  preceding  effort.  It  is  as  if  the  smith 
should  every  moment  withdraw  his  ii*on  from  the 
fii*e,  instead  of  letting  it  stay  until  it  has  acquired 
a  white  heat.  The  same  amount  of  mental  a2:)plica- 
tion,  condensed  into  a  single  continuous  effort,  will 
accomplish  far  more,  than  if  it  is  scattered  in  por- 
tions over  a  long  space  of  time.  "  Divide  up  the 
thunder,''  says  Schiller,  "  into  separate  notes,  and  it 
becomes  a  lullaby  for  children,  but  pour  it  forth  in 
one  continuous  peal,  and  its  royal  sound  shall  shake 
the  heavens." 

One  principal  reason  why  the  pul2:>it  ministra 
lions  of  the  clergy  do  not,  as  they  should,  exhibit 
jheir  utmost  possibility  of  effort,  lies  in  the  fact,  that 
too  many  sermons  are  composed  scatteringly  all  along 
through  the  week.  They  are  the  products  of  the 
desultory  efforts  of  the  clergyman.  lie  allows  him- 
self to  be  interrupted  during  the  season  of  composi- 
tion, or  else  he  has  no  fixed  and  stated  season. 
The  consequence  is,  tliat  the  sermon,  instead  of 
being  produced  by  one  uninterrupted  gush  of  soul, 
or  at  least  by  a  few  gushes  and  outpourings  that 
form  a  true  connection  with  each  other,  and  so  are 


136  HOMELETICS. 

virtually  a  single  continuous  effort,  is  tlie  patched 
and  fragmentary  collection  of  odd  hours,  and  of 
ungenial  moods.  The  discourse,  in  this  way,  di'ags 
its  slow  length  along  through  the  whole  weeh:, 
and  the  entii'e  mental  labor  expended  upon  it, 
though  apparently  so  much,  is  not  equal  in  true 
productive  force,  in  real  originant  and  influential 
power,  to  five  hours  of  continuous  glowing  com- 
position. 

Let  the  sermonizer,  then,  proceed  upon  the 
maxim  of  writing  continuously,  when  he  writes  at 
all.  Let  him  have  his  set  season  for  composition. 
Let  him  fix  the  time  of  writing,  and  the  length  of 
effort,  in  accordance  with  his  physical  strength,  and 
then  let  him  go  through  with  the  process  of  com- 
position, with  all  the  abstraction,  absoq^tiou,  and 
devotedness  of  prayer  itself  In  this  way,  the  very 
best  power  of  the  man,  the  theologian,  and  the 
Christian,  will  be  evolved,  and  will  aj)pear  in  a  dis- 
course that  will  be  fresh,  energetic,  and  impressive. 
In  this  way,  the  sermon  would  become  a  more  uni- 
formly ^dvid  production,  and  a  more  generally  vital 
species  of  authorship,  than  it  now  is. 

It  must  be  remembered,  however,  that  this 
injunction  to  write  continuously,  and  furiously,  is  a 
maxim  only  for  one  who  has  obeyed  the  other  max- 
ims, general  and  special,  that  have  been  laid  down 
for  sermonizing.  It  is  no  maxim  for  one  who  has 
not.  It  is  one  of  a  series,  and  pre-su23poses  obe- 
dience to  what  precedes,  and  also  to  what  succeeds. 


SPECIAL   MAXIMS.  137 

If  tlie  preacter  lias  formed  a  Lomiletic  ]ial)it  of 
mind,  if  his  ideal  of  a  sermon  is  liigli,  if  lie  lias 
trained  himself  to  self  reliance,  if  lie  lias  acquired  a 
S2:)iritual  way  of  thinking,  and  if  he  has  roused  his 
mind  by  his  subject,  and  his  heart  by  prayer, — if 
he  has  done  all  this,  then  what  he  does  in  the  hour 
of  composition,  let  him  do  quickly,  and  continu- 
ously. 

3.  The  third  maxim  to  be  followed  by  the  ser- 
monizer,  in  actual  composition,  is  this  :  Avoid j>rolvx- 
itij.  By  prolixity,  is  meant  a  tiresome  length  which 
arises  from  an  excessive  treatment  of  a  subject, — 
as  excessive  explanation,  or  excessive  illustration, 
or  excessive  aimimentation.  Theremin,  in  his  trea- 
tise  upon  Rhetoric,^  enunciates  the  important  dis- 
tinction between  the  philosophical,  and  the  rhetor- 
ical presentation  of  truth.  The  former,  is  that 
exhaustive  and  detailed  develojoment  of  a  subject 
which  is  proper  in  the  scientific  treatise.  The  latter, 
is  that  rapid  and  condensed,  yet  methodical,  exhi- 
bition of  thought  which  is  required  of  the  orator, 
by  the  circumstances  in  which  he  is  placed.  Re- 
curring to  this  distinction,  the  maxim,  "  Avoid 
prolixity,"  is  equivalent  to  the  rule,  "  Exhibit  truth 
rhetorically,"  in  distinction  from  exhibiting  it  jihilo- 
sophically  or  poetically. 

The  orator,  of  all  men,  should  know  when  he  is 
through,  and  should  stop  when  he  is  through.    The 

'  Book  I.  chap.  X,  xi ;  Book  II.  cJiap.  iv. 


138  HOMILETICS. 

preacher  sliould  perceive  wlien  lie  has  subjected  a 
subject,  or  a  portion  of  a  subject,  to  a  treatment 
that  is  sufficient  for  the  purposes  of  oratory,  and 
should  act  accordingly.  As  soon  as  his  j^resenta- 
tion  has  reached  the  due  limits  of  rhetoric,  he 
should  bring  it  to  an  end,  instantaneously,  lest  it 
pass  over  into  a  mode  of  representation  that  is  for- 
eign to  the  orator,  and  is  inimical  to  all  the  aims  of 
an  orator.  Prolixity,  or  excessive  treatment,  arises 
when  the  sermonizer  continues  to  dwell  upon  any 
part  of  his  discourse,  after  he  has  already  suffi- 
ciently developed  it.  A  j^lan  is  prolix,  when  it  is 
filled  up  with  sub-divisions  which  are  so  evidently 
contained  in  the  principal  divisions,  that  the  mind 
of  the  auditor  feels  itself  undervalued  by  their 
formal  enunciation.  An  argument  is  prolix,  when, 
from  the  employment  of  the  philosophical  instead 
of  the  rhetorical  mode  of  demonstration,  it  is  made 
tedious  by  syllogisms  instead  of  enthymemes,  and 
by  trains  of  ratiocination  instead  of  bold  and  direct 
apj)eals  to  consciousness.  An  illustration  is  prolix, 
when  the  short  and  rapid  metaphor  is  converted 
into  the  long  and  detailed  simile,  or  allegory.^ 

'  Figures   are  now   the   chief  plior  is  the  orator's  figure,  and 

source    of   false  rhetoric.      The  the  simile  is  the  poet's."     The 

preacher  talks  trope,  instead  of  metaphor  is  swift  and  glancing, 

talking  truth  and  sense.     Aristo-  flashing  its  light  instantaneously, 

tie  was  not  an  orator,  but  he  held  and    not  impeding   the   flow   of 

the  key  to  eloquence,  by  virtue  thought  and  truth  ;  the  simile  is 

of  his  sagacious  insight,  and  sci-  the    metaphor   wire-drawn,    de- 

entific  analysis.     One  of  his  preg-  tailed,  and  expanded,  so  as  to  fill 

nant  remarks  is,  that  "  the  meta-  the  whole  foreground  of  the  dis- 


SPECIAL   MAXIMS.  139 

Without,  however,  entering  upon  these  particu- 
lars of  plan,  proof,  and  illustration,  ^ve  would  briefly 
call  attention  to  that  prolixity,  or  excessive  and 
tedious  treatment  of  a  subject,  wliich  arises  from  an 
imperfect  mastery  of  it.  Suppose  that  the  sermon- 
izer  has  not  made  that  general  and  special  prepara- 
tion for  composition  which  we  have  described,  and 
yet  attempts  the  production  of  a  sermon.  In  the 
first  place,  his  manner  of  ];)resentation  will  inevita- 
bly be  confused ;  in  the  second  place,  it  will  inevi- 
tably be  prolix,  because  it  is  confused  ;  and  in  the 
third  place,  it  will  inevitably  be  tedious,  because  it 
is  j^i'olix  and  confused.  Instead  of  handling  his 
theme  with  that  strong,  yet  easy,  grasp,  which  is 
natural  to  a  mind  that  is  master  of  itself  and  of  the 
truth,  he  handles  it  iiTesolutely,  hesitatingly,  and 
awkwardly.  Instead  of  a  clear,  downright  state- 
ment, because  he  hioios  whereof  he  affirms,  he 
expresses  himself  obscurely  and  doubtfully,  because 
he  does  not  certainly  and  positively  know.  State- 
ment follows  statement,  and  yet  there  is  little  or  no 
progress  towards  a  final  statement.  Conscious  that 
he  has  not  done  justice  to  the  topic,  he  dares  not 
let  it  drop,  and  take  up  another.  Conscious  that 
he  has  not  lodged  the  truth  fairly  and  surely  in  the 


course  with  pictorial  elements,  in  prolix  poetical  fustian,  and  moro 

which  Loth  speaker  and  hearer  of  gcuuiuo  eloquence,  in  the  dis- 

loso  sight  of  the  subject.     If  this  courses  of   a  certain    class    of 

dictum    of   the   Stagirite    were  preachers, 
heeded,  there  would  be  less  of 


140  HOJnLETICS. 

mind  of  the  auditor,  lie  does  not  leave  it,  but  con- 
tinues to  liover  about  it,  and  work  at  it,  in  hope  of 
better  success  in  the  end.  The  result  is,  that  instead 
of  crowding  the  greatest  possible  amount  of  matter, 
into  the  smallest  possible  form,  the  preacher  spreads 
the  least  possible  amount  of  truth  over  the  widest 
possible  surface.  He  hammers  out  Ms  lead  very- 
thin .  For,  in  this  process,  the  truth,  itself  suffers. 
Instead  of  appearing  in  the  sermon,  as  it  is  in  its 
own  nature,  bright,  dense,  and  gem-like,  under  the 
manipulations  of  such  a  workman,  it  becomes  dull 
and  porous.  The  sacred  oration,  instead  of  being  a 
swift,  brief,  and  strong  movement  of  thought, 
becomes  a  slow,  long,  and  feeble  one. 

But  prolixity  may  arise,  also,  from  another 
cause  besides  ignorance  of  the  subject.  There  may 
be  prolixity  from  too  much  information.  The 
preacher  may  have  stored  his  memory  with  a 
multifarious  knowledge,  and  not  having  acquired 
that  thoroughly  organizing  habit  of  mind  which, 
like  life  in  nature,  sloughs  off  all  that  is  not  needed, 
this  knowledge  inundates  the  sermon.  It  comes 
pouring  in  upon  him  by  a  merely  passive  effort  of 
the  memory,  while  the  judgment  is  unawakened 
and  unemployed,  and,  borne  along  upon  this  general 
deluge  of  materials,  the  preacher  becomes  the  most 
prolix  and  tedious  of  mortals.  Long  after  the 
toj^ic  under  consideration  has  been  sufficiently 
explained  to  the  understanding,  he  continues  to 
explain.     Long  after  the  topic  has  been  sufficiently 


SPECIAL  JIAXniS.  141 

illustrated  to  the  imagination,  L.e  continues  to  illus- 
trate. Coj^iousness  of  information,  unless  it  is 
under  tlie  regulation  and  guidance  of  a  strongly 
methodizing  ability,  and  true  rhetorical  talent,  leads 
to  prolixity  as  inevitably  as  sheer  ignorance. 

While  the  j^reacher  is  on  his  guard  against  this 
fault,  he  is  at  the  same  time  to  remember  that  he  is 
dealing  with  the  common  mind,  and  must  not  be  so 
brief  as  to  be  obscure.  A  certain  degree  of  repeti- 
tion, even,  is  required  in  the  sermon,  especially  if  it 
is  highly  doctrinal,  in  order  to  convey  the  truth 
completely.  This  trait  should  be  managed  with 
great  care,  however ;  for,  even  the  common  mind  is 
less  offended  at  a  nakedness  of  statement  which 
leaves  it  something  to  do,  even  if  it  is  in  the  way 
of  supplying  ellipses  and  deficiencies,  than  it  is  at 
an  excessive  repetition,  which  tires  and  tantalizes  it. 
It  is  impossible  to  lay  down  a  general  rule  for  the 
length  of  a  sermon.  It  will  not  do  to  say  that  it 
should  be  thirty  minutes  in  length,  or  forty-five 
minutes,  or  one  hour.  The  length  of  a  discourse 
will  vary  with  the  nature  of  the  theme,  and  the 
peculiarities  of  time  and  place.  And  no  stiff  rule  is 
needed,  provided  the  sermonizer  possesses  that  good 
judgment,  that  tact,  which  discerns  when  the  sub- 
ject, as  a  whole,  or  in  its  j^arts,  has  received  a  suffi- 
cient treatment.  It  is,  in  reality,  a  sort  of  instinct- 
ive feelins:  which  comes  in  the  course  of  a  ffood 
rhetorical  training  and  practice,  rather  than  any 
outward  rule,  that  must  decide  when  the  develop- 


142  nomLETics. 

ment  of  truth  has  reached  that  point  where  it  must 
stoj?.  Hence  the  remark  so  often  made  in  praise  of 
a  skilful  orator :  "  He  knows  when  he  is  done." 
In  fact,  it  is  not  the  item  of  length,  but  the  item  of 
prolixity,  which  wearies  an  audience.  An  auditory 
will  listen  with  increasing  interest  to  a  sermon  of 
an  hour's  length,  provided  their  attention  is  kept 
upon  the  stretch,  by  a  sermonizer  who  says  just 
enough,  and  no  more,  upon  each  point,  and  who 
passes  fi'om  toj^ic  to  topic  with  rapidity,  and  yet 
with  a  due  treatment  and  exhaustion  of  each,  while 
they  will  go  to  sleep  under  a  sermon  of  a  half-hour  s 
length,  in  which  there  is  none  of  the  excitement 
that  comes  fi'om  a  skilful  management  of  the  heads, 
and  none  of  the  exhilaration  of  a  forward  motion. 
There  is  less  fatigue  and  weariness,  in  shooting 
through  two  hundred  miles  of  sjoace,  in  a  rail-car, 
than  in  lumbering  over  ten  miles  of  space,  in  a  slow 
coach. 

The  importance  of  avoiding  prolixity  is  very 
apparent,  when  we  consider  the  relation  of  the  ser- 
mon to  the  feelings  and  affections  of  the  hearer." 
The  feelings  of  the  human  soul  are  often  very  shy, 
and  a]3parently  capricious.  The  preacher  sometimes 
succeeds  in  awakening  a  very  deep  feeling, — say 
that  of  conviction  of  sin, — but  he  is  not  satisfied 
with  having  said  just  enough,  or  perhaps  he  is  des- 
titute of  that  tact  of  which  we  have  spoken,  and 
does  not  hiow  that  he  has,  and  continues  to  enlarge 
and  amplify.     The  feeling  of  conviction  in  the  hear- 


SPECIAL   MAXIMS.  143 

er,  wliicli  ought  to  have  been  left  to  itself,  begins 
to  be  weakened  by  the  unnecessary  repetition  or 
prolixity  of  the  discourse,  and  j)erhaps  is  ultimately 
dissipated  by  it.  If  the  preacher  had  stopped 
when  he  was  really  through,  and  had  left  the  mind 
of  the  auditor  to  its  own  workings  and  those  of 
the  Holy  Spirit  in  it,  a  work  would  have  been  done 
in  the  soul,  which  all  this  labor  of  supererogation  on 
his  part  only  serves  to  hinder  and  suppress. 

Let  the  preacher  acquire  this  nice  discernment, 
by  acquiring  a  good  rhetorical  discipline,  by  mak- 
ing all  the  general  and  special  preparation  for  ser- 
monizing, and  by  studying  the  capacities  of  his 
congregation,  and  then  he  will  instinctively  avoid 
all  prolixity  in  the  discussion  of  truth.  Then,  his 
sermons,  whether  they  are  longer  or  shorter,  will  all 
of  them  exhibit  that  just  proportion,  that  round- 
ness of  form  and  absence  of  all  superfluity,  which 
we  see  in  the  works  of  natiu'e,  and  which  appears 
in  the  productions  of  every  wise  and  cunning  work- 
man who  imitates  nature. 


CHAPTER    VI 

THE  DIFFERENT   SPECIES   OF   SERMONS. 

Ijst  classifying  sermons,  it  is  well  to  follow  tlie 
example  of  the  scientific  man,  and  employ  as  ge- 
neric distinctions  as  possible.  It  is  never  desirable 
to  distinguisli  a  great  many  particulars,  and  elevate 
tlieni  into  an  undue  prominence,  by  converting  tliem 
into  generals.  That  classification,  therefore,  wMch 
would  regard  the  "  applicatory  "  sermon,  the  "  obser- 
vational "  sermon,  and  such  like,  as  distinct  classes, 
only  contributes  to  the  confusion  and  embarrassment 
of  the  inquirer.  The  three  most  generic  species  of 
sermons,  are  the  topical,  the  textual,  and  the  exposi- 
tory. 

1.  The  Topical  Sermon  is  one  in  which  there  is 
but  a  single  leading  idea.  This  idea  sometimes 
finds  a  formal  expression  in  a  proposition,  and  some- 
times it  pervades  the  discourse  as  a  whole,  without 
being  distinctly  pre-announced.  Topical  sermons 
are  occupied  "with  one  definite  subject,  which  can 
be  accurately  and  fully  stated  in  a  brief  title. 
South  preaches   a   discourse   of    this    kind,   from 


SPECIES    OF   SERMOIsS.  145 

Numbers,  xxxii.  23:  "Be  sure  your  sin  will  find 
you  out."  The  proposition  of  tlie  sermon  is  tliis : 
"  Concealment  of  sin  is  no  security  to  tlie  sinner." 
Tlie  leading  idea  of  the  discourse  is,  the  concealment 
of  sin ;  and  the  particular  idea  in  the  hearer,  to 
which  this  idea  in  the  sermon  is  referred,  is  the  idea 
of  liappiness}  The  concealment  of  sin  is  affirmed 
to  be  incompatible  with  the  soul's  peace  and  enjoy- 
ment; and  the  positions  by  which  the  idea,  or  propo- 
sition, of  the  sermon  is  led  back  to  this  funda- 
mental idea  in  the  mental  constitution  of  the  hearer, 
are  these :  1.  The  sinner's  very  confidence  of  secrecy 
is  the  cause  of  his  detection.  2.  There  is  sometimes 
a  providential  concurrence  of  unexpected  events, 
which  leads  to  his  detection.  3.  One  sin  is  some- 
times the  means  of  discovering  another.  4.  The 
sinner  may  unwittingly  discover  himself,  through 
frenzy  and  distraction.  5.  The  sinner  may  be  forced 
to  discover  himself,  by  his  own  conscience.  6.  The 
sinner  may  be  suddenly  smitten  by  some  notable 
judgment  that  discloses  his  guilt,  or,  7.  His  guilt 
will  follow  him  into  another  world,  if  he  should 
chance  to  escape  in  this. 

The  topical  sermon  is  more  properly  an  oration 
than  either  of  the  other  species.  It  is  occupied 
with  a  single  definite  theme  that  can  be  completely 
enunciated  in  a  brief  statement.  All  of  its  parts 
are  subservient  to  the  theoretical  establishment  of 


'  TuEKEMix  :  Pvlietoric,  pp.  72-75. 
10 


146  HOMILETICS. 

but  one  idea  or  propositioD,  in  tlie  mind  of  the 
hearer,  and  to  the  practical  realization  of  it,  in  his 
conduct.  In  the  case  of  the  textual  sermon,  as  we 
shall  see  when  we  come  to  examine  it,  there  is  less 
certainty  of  unity  in  the  subject,  and,  consequently, 
in  the  structure  of  the  discourse.  And  the  exposi- 
tory sermon  partakes  least  of  any  of  the  character- 
istics of  oratory  and  eloquence. 

Inasmuch  as  the  topical  sermon  approaches 
nearest  to  the  unity,  and  symmetry,  and  conver- 
gence to  a  single  point,  of  the  oration  proper,  it  is 
the  model  species  for  the  preacher.  By  this  is 
meant,  that  the  sermon,  ideally,  should  contain  one 
leading  thought,  rather  than  several.  It  should  be 
the  embodiment  of  a  single  proposition,  rather  than 
a  collection  of  several  propositions.  It  should 
announce  but  one  sino;le  doctrine,  in  its  isolation 
and  independence,  instead  of  exhibiting  several 
doctrines,  in  their  interconnection  and  mutual  de- 
pendence. The  sermon  must  j)reserve  an  oratorical 
character.  It  should  never  allow  either  the  philo- 
sophical or  the  poetical  element,  to  predom'inate  over 
the  rhetorical.  The  sermon  should  be  eloquence, 
and  not  poetry  or  philosophy.  It  should  be  a  dis- 
course that  exhibits  singleness  of  aim,  and  a  con- 
verging progress  towards  an  outward  j)ractical  end. 

It  is  for  this  reason,  therefore,  that  we  lay  down 
the  position,  that  the  topical  sermon  is  the  model 
species  for  the  sermonizer.  If  he  constructs  a 
textual  sermon,  he  ought  to  mate  it  as  topical  as 


SPECIES    OF   SEiniONS.  147 

IS  possible.^  He  must  iiiin  to  pervade  it  with  but 
one  leading  idea,  to  embody  in  it  but  one  doctrine, 
and  to  make  it  teacli  but  one  lesson.  In  construct- 
ing an  expository  sermon,  also,  the  preacher  should 
make  the  same  endeavor ;  and  although  he  must  in 
this  instance  be  less  successful,  he  may  facilitate  his 
aim,  by  selecting  for  exposition  only  such  passages 
of  Scripture  as  have  but  one  general  drift,  and  con- 
vey but  one  general  sentiment. 

The  importance  of  this  maxim  may  be  best 
seen,  by  considering  the  fact,  that  sermons  are  more 
defective  in  respect  to  unity  of  structure,  and  a 
constant  progress  towards  a  single  end,  than  in  any 
other  respect.  But  these  are  strictly  oratorical 
qualities,  and  can  be  secured  'Only  by  attending  to 
the  nature  and  laws  of  eloquence, — to  the  rhetori- 
cal, as  distinguished  from  the  philosophical  presenta- 
tion of  truth-  Too  many  sermons  contain  matter 
enough  for  two  or  three  orations,  and  consequently 
are  not  themselves  orations.  This  is  true  of  the 
elder  Euglisli  sermonizers,  in  whom  the  matter  is 
generally  superior  to  the  form.  Take  the  following 
plan  of  a  sermon  of  South  (in  oratorical  respects, 
the  best  of  the  earlier  English  preachers)  on  Jer. 
vi.  15:  "Were  they  ashamed  when  they  had  com- 

'  This  is  not  to  bo  attained,  by  and  movement  of  the  discourse 

making  the  plan  a  mixture  of  top-  sliould  bo  distinguished,  so  far  as 

ical   and   textual, — by   stating   a  possible,  by  unity,  simplicity,  and 

proposition,  and  following  with  a  progressiveness, — that  is,  by  ora- 

purely  textual  division.  The  plan  torical  or  topical  qualities, 
bhould  bo   textual,  but  the  style 


148  HOMILETICS. 

initted  abomination?  Nay,  tliey  were  not  at  all 
asliamed,  neither  could  tliey  blush :  therefore  they 
shall  foil  among  them  that  fall :  at  the  time  that 
I  visit  them  they  shall  be  cast  down,  saith  the 
Lord."  It  is  a  topical  discourse.  The  theme  or 
proposition  is  :  "  Shamelessness  in  sin  is  the  certain 
forerunner  of  destruction."  The  sermon  contains 
sixteen  pages,  of  which  only  four  and  a  half  are 
filled  with  matter  that,  upon  strictly  rhetorical 
principles,  goes  to  establish  the  proposition.  The 
first  three-quarters  of  the  sermon  are  occupied  with 
an  analysis  of  the  nature  of  "  shamelessness  in  sin." 
The  discourse  is  shaped  too  disproportionately  by 
the  category  of  truth, — a  category  that  is  subordi- 
nate, and  should  not  be  allowed  so  much  influence 
in  the  structure  and  mouldins:  of  an  oration.  ^  The 
consequence  is,  that  this  sermon  possesses  less  of 
that  oratorical  fire  and  force  so  generally  charac- 
teristic of  South.  It  is  not  throughout  pervaded 
by  its  own  fundamental  proposition.  It  does  not 
gather  momentum  as  it  proceeds.  There  is  no 
greater  energy  of  style  and  diction  at  the  end,  than 
at  the  beginning.  It  is  clear,  it  is  instructive,  it 
has  many  and  great  excellencies ;  but  it  lacks  the 
excellence  of  being  a  true  oration, — a  rounded  and 
symmetrical  discourse,  pervaded  by  one  idea, 
breathing  but  one  spirit,  rushing  forward  with  a 
uniformly  accelerating  motion,  and  ending  with  an 

*  Theeemix  :  Ehetoric,  Book  I.  Chap.  X. 


SPECIES   OF   SERMONS.  149 

overpowering  impression  and  influence  upon  the 
will.  This  discourse  w^ould  be  more  truly  topical, 
and  thus  more  truly  oratorical,  if  the  proportions 
had  been  just  the  reverse  of  what  they  now  are ; 
if  but  one-fourth  of  it  had  been  moulded  by  the 
metaphysical  category  of  truth,  and  the  remaining 
three-fourths  by  the  practical  idea  of  happiness ; 
if  the  discussion  of  the  nature  of  shamelessness  in 
sin  had  filled  four  pages,  and  the  effects^  or  reasons 
w^hy  it  brings  down  destruction  or  unhappiness 
upon  the  sinner,  had  filled  the  remaining  twelve. 

2.  The  Textual  Sermon  is  one  in  which  the 
passage  of  Scripture  is  broken  up,  and  either  its 
leading  words,  or  its  leading  clauses,  become  the 
heads  of  the  discourse.  For  example,  E,om.  xiv. 
12  :  "So  then  every  one  of  us  shall  give  an  account 
of  himself  to  Grod,"  might  be  the  foundation  of  a 
discourse  upon  human  accountability.  The  divisions 
are  formed  by  emphasizing  the  leading  words,  and 
thereby  converting  them  into  the  divisions  of  the 
sermon,  as  follows  :  1.  An  account  is  to  be  rendered. 
2.  This  account  is  to  \)e  rendered  to  God.  3.  Every 
one  is  to  render  this  account, — mankind  generally. 
4.  Every  one  of  lis  is  to  render  this  account, — men 
as  individuals.  5.  Ev^ery  one  of  us  is  to  render  an 
account  of  himself. 

It  is  not  necessary  that  the  words  of  the  text 
should  be  employed,  as  in  the  example  given  above. 
The  substance  of  the  separate  clauses  may  be  made 
the    divisions,  and   the    sermon    still   be  textual. 


150  HOJIILETICS. 

Barrow  lias  a  sermon  founded  on  Eph.  v.  20 :  "Giv- 
ing thanks  always,  for  all  things,  unto  God."  The 
jAan  is  as  follows :  1.  The  duty  itself, — giving 
thanks.  2.  The  ohject  to  whom  thanks  are  to  be 
directed, — to  God.  3.  The  time  of  performing  the 
duty, — always.  4.  The  matter  and  extent  of  the 
duty, — for  all  things. 

What  are  sometimes  termed  "observational" 
sermons,  are  also  textual.  The  following  taken 
from  a  plan  of  a  sermon  by  Beddome,  upon  Acts 
ix.  4 :  "  Saul,  Saul,  why  persecutest  thou  me  ?"  will 
illustrate  this.  The  observations  upon  this  text 
are  suggested,  either  by  the  text  as  a  whole,  or  by 
some  of  its  parts.  1.  It  is  the  general  character  of 
unconverted  men  to  be  of  a  persecuting  spirit. 
This  observation  is  suG^o-ested  bv  the  text  as  a 
whole.  2.  Christ  has  his  eye  upon  persecutors. 
This  observation  is  also  suggested  by  the  text  as  a 
whole.  3.  The  injury  done  to  Christ's  people, 
Christ  considers  as  done  to  himself.  This  observa- 
tion is  suggested  by  a  part  of  the  text, — by  an  em- 
phasized word  in  it,  "  why  persecutest  thou  me  ?" 
4.  The  calls  of  Christ  are  particular.  This  obser- 
vation is  suggested  by  a  paii;  of  the  text, — "  JSaul^ 
SauV 

There  are  two  things  requisite  to  the  production 
of  a  good  textual  sermon,  viz. :  a  significant  text, 
and  a  talent  to  discover  its  significance.  The  text 
must  contain  distinct  and  emphatic  conceptions,  to 
serve  as  the  parts  of  the  division.    In  the  text  given 


SPECIES   OF   SEEMOITS.  151 

above,  Rom.  xiv.  12,  "  So  tlien  every  one  of  us  sliall 
give  an  account  of  himself  to  God,"  tliere  are  these 
distinct  and  emphatic  ideas :  An  account ;  a  judge  ; 
humanity  generally ;  the  individual  in  particular ; 
personal  confession.  These  fertile  conceptions  are 
full  of  matter,  and  the  skill  of  the  sermonizer  is  seen 
in  the  thoroughness,  and  brevity,  with  which  he  ex- 
hausts them  and  their  contents.  Upon  the  number, 
variety,  and  richness  of  such  distinct  and  emphatic 
ideas  in  a  passage,  depends  its  fitness  for  textual 
discourse. 

Again,  the  text,  in  case  it  does  not  contain  a 
number  of  such  conceptions,  must  contain  a  number 
of  distinct  positions,  or  affirmations,  to  serve  as  parts 
of  the  division.  There  may  be  no  single  conceptions 
in  a  text,  suitable  to  constitute  the  plan  of  a  sermon, 
while,  there  are  several  statements  in  it,  direct  or 
implied.  Take,  for  example^  Ps.  xc.  10  :  "  The  days 
of  our  years  are  threescore  years  and  ten :  and  if  by 
reason  of  strength  they  be  fourscore  years,  yet  is 
their  strencrth  labor  and  sorrow:  for  it  is  soon  cut 
off,  and  we  ily  away."  The  single  conceptions  in 
this  text  are  not  weighty  enough  to  constitute  heads 
in  a  discourse,  but  the  affirmations,  the  positions, 
and  the  statements  imj^lied  in  it,  are.  This  text, 
treated  in  this  way,  would  furnish  the  follo^ving 
di\dsions  of  a  textual  sermon :  1.  Human  life,  how- 
ever lengthened  out,  must  come  to  an  end.  2.  Hu- 
man life,  at  longest,  is  very  short.     3.    That  which 


152  HOMILETICS. 

is  added  to  tlie  ordinary  duration  of  human  life  is, 
after  all,  but  little  to  be  desired. 

The  second  requisite,. in  order  to  the  production 
of  a  good  textual  sermon,  is  a  talent  to  detect  these 
emphatic  conceptions,  or  these  direct  or  indirect  po- 
sitions, in  a  passage  of  Scripture.  A  preacher  desti- 
tute of  this  talent  will  pass  by  many  texts  that, 
really,  are  full  of  the  materials  of  textual  sermon- 
izing. He  has  no  eye  to  discover  the  rich  veins 
that  lie  concealed  just  under  the  dull  and  uninter- 
esting surface.  If  a  text  is  so  plain  that  he  needs 
only  to  cull  out  the  leading  words, — if  the  forma- 
tion of  the  plan  is  merely  a  verhalizlng  process, — 
he  can,  perhaps,  succeed  in  constructing  a  textual 
discourse  that  will  probably  be  common-place,  be- 
cause its  structure  is  so  very  evident  and  easy. 
But  the  number  of  such  texts  is  small,  and  the  range 
of  such  a  sermonizer  must  be  narrow.  A  tact  is 
needed  in  the  preacher,  to  discover  the  hidden  skele- 
ton. This  tact  will  be  acquired  gradually  and  surely, 
by  every  one  who  carefully  cultivates  himself  in 
all  homiletic  respects.  Like  all  nice  discernment, 
it  comes  imperceptibly  in  the  course  of  training  and 
discipline,  and,  therefore,  no  single  and  particular 
rule  for  its  acquisition  can  be  laid  down.  It  must 
be  acquired,  however,  or  the  fundamental  talent  for 
textual  sermonizing  will  be  wanting.  Moreover, 
this  tact  should  be  judicious.  It  is  possible  to  find 
more  meaning  in  a  text,  than  it  really  contains.  The 
Kabbinic  notion,  that  mountains  of  sense  are  con- 


SPECIES   OF   SERMONS.  153 

tained  in  every  letter  of  tlie  inspired  volume,  may 
be  adopted  to  sucli  an  extent,  at  least,  as  to  lead 
tte  preacher  into  a  fanciful  method  that  is  destruc- 
tive of  all  impressive  and  effective  discourse.  This 
talent,  for  detecting  the  significance  of  Scrij^ture, 
must  be  confined  to  the  gist  of  it, — to  the  evident 
and  complete  substance  of  it. 

3.  The  Expository  Sermon,  as  its  name  indicates, 
is  an  explanatory  discourse.  The  purpose  of  it  is, 
to  unfold  the  meaning  of  a  connected  paragraph  or 
section  of  Scripture,  in  a  more  detailed  manner,  than 
is  consistent  with  the  structure  of  either  the 
topical  or  the  textual  sermon.  Some  writers  upon 
Homiletics  would  deny  it  a  place  among  sermons, 
and  contend  that  it  cannot  legitimately  contain 
enough  of  the  oratorical  structure,  and  character,  to 
justify  its  being  employed  for  purposes  of  j)ersua- 
sion.  They  affirm  that  the  expository  discourse  is 
purely  and  entirely  didactic,  and  can  no  more  be 
classified  v*'ith  the  connected,  and  symmetrical  pro- 
ductions of  oratory  and  eloquence,  than  the  com- 
mentary or  the  paraphrase  can  be. 

But  while  it  is  undoubtedly  true,  that  the 
expository  sermon  is  the  fiirthest  removed  from 
the  oration,  both  in  its  structure  and  in  its  move- 
ment, it  is  not  necessary  that  it  should  be  as 
totally  unoratorical  as  commentary,  or  paraphrase. 
An  expository  discourse  should  have  a  logical 
structure,  and  be  pervaded  by  a  leading  sentiment, 
as  really  as  a  topical  sermon.     And,  certainly,  it 


154  HOMILETICS. 

oii2:lit  to  be  free  from  tlie  dilution  of  a  mere 
paraphrase.  It  should  have  a  beginning,  middle, 
and  end,  and  thus  he  more  than  a  piece  of  com- 
mentary. In  short,  we  lay  down  the  same  rule  in 
relation  to  the  expository  sermon,  that  we  did  in 
relation  to  the  textual,  viz. :  that  it  be  assimilated 
to  the  topical  model,  as  closely  as  the  nature  of  the 
species  permits.  But  in  order  to  this  assimilation, 
it  is  necessary  to  select  for  exposition,  a  passage  or 
paragraph  of  Scripture,  that  is  somev/hat  complete 
in  itself  The  distinction  between  expository  preach- 
ing and  commentary,  originates  in  the  selection,  in 
the  former  instance,  of  a  rounded  and  self-included 
portion  of  inspiration,  as  the  foundation  of  discourse, 
while  in  the  latter  instance,  the  mind  is  allowed  to 
run  on  indefinitely,  to  the  conclusion  of  the  Gospel 
or  the  Epistle.  The  excellence  of  an  expository 
sermon,  consequently,  depends  primarily  •  upon  the 
choice  of  such  a  portion  of  Scripture,  as  will  not  lead 
the  preacher  on  and  on,  without  allowing  him  to 
arrive  at  a  proper  termination.  Unless  a  passage  is 
taken,  that  finally  comes  round  in  a  full  circle,  con- 
tainino;  one  leadino;  sentiment,  and  teachino;  one 
grand  lesson, — ^like  a  parable  of  our  Lord, — the  ex- 
pository sermon  must  either  be  commentary  or 
paraphrase.  And  if  it  be  either  of  these,  it  cannot 
be  classed  among  sermons,  because  the  utmost  it 
can  accomplish  is  information.  Persuasion,  the 
proper   function  and   distinguishing    characteristic 


SPECIES    OF   SERMOIs'S.  155 

of  eloquence,  forms  no  part  of  its  effects  uj^on  an 
audience. 

Even  when  a  suitable  passage  has  been  selected, 
the  sermonizer  will  need  to  employ  his  strongest 
logical  talent,  and  his  best  rhetorical  ability,  to  im- 
part sufficient  of  the  oratorical  form  and  spirit,  to 
the  expository  sermon.  lie  will  need  to  watch  his 
mind,  and  his  plan,  with  great  care,  lest  the  dis- 
course ovei'flow  its  banks,  and  spread  out  in  all 
directions,  losing  the  current  and  the  deep  strong 
volume  of  eloquence.  This  species  of  sermonizing 
is  very  liable  to  be  a  dilution  of  divine  truth,  instead 
of  an  exjDOsition.  Perhaps,  among  modern  preach- 
ers, Chalmers  exhibits  the  best  example  of  the  ex- 
pository sermon.  The  oratorical  structure  and  sj^irit 
of  his  mind  enabled  him  to  create  a  current,  in 
almost  every  species  of  discourse  which  he  under- 
took, and,  through  his  Lectures  on  Komans,  we  find 
a  strong  unifying  stream  of  eloquence  constantly 
setting  in,  with  an  increasing  and  surging  force, 
from  the  beginning  to  the  end.  The  exj^ository 
preaching  of  this  distinguished  sacred  orator,  is  well 
worth  studying  in  the  respect  of  which  we  are 
sj^eaking. 

Having  thus  briefly  sketched  the  characteristics 
of  the  three  species  of  sermons,  the  question  natu- 
rally arises:  To  what  extent  is  each  to  be  em- 
ployed by  the  preacher  ? 

The  fii'st  general  answer  to  this  question  is,  that 
all  the  species  should  be  employed,  by  every  ser- 


156  nojiiLETics. 

monizer  without  exception.  No  matter  what  the 
turn  or  temper  of  his  mind  may  be,  he  should 
build  upon  each  and  every  one  of  these  patterns. 
If  he  is  highly  oratorical  in  his  bent  and  spirit,  let 
him  by  no  means  neglect  the  expository  sermon. 
If  his  mental  temperament  is  phlegmatic,  and  his 
mental  processes  naturally  cool  and  unimpassioned, 
let  him  by  no  means  neglect  the  topical  sermon.  It 
is  too  generally  the  case,  that  the  preacher  follows 
his  tendency,  and  preaches  uniforndy  one  kind  of  ser- 
mons. A  more  severe  dealing  with  his  own  powers, 
and  a  wiser  regard  for  the  wants  of  his  audience, 
would  lead  to  more  variety  in  sermonizing.  At 
times,  the  mind  of  the  congregation  needs  the  more 
stirring  and  impressive  influence  of  a  topical  dis- 
course, to  urge  it  up  to  action.  At  others,  it  requires 
the  instruction  and  indoctrination  of  the  less  rheto- 
rical, and  more  didactic  expositions  of  Scrijoture. 

And  this  leads  to  the  further  remark,  as  a 
definite  rej^ly  to  the  question  above  raised,  that  the 
preacher  should  employ  all  three  of  the  species,  in 
the  order  in  which  they  have  been  discussed. 
Speaking  generally,  it  is  safe  to  say  that  the  plural- 
ity of  sermons  should  be  topical,  pervaded  by  a 
single  idea  or  containing  a  single  proposition,  and 
converging  by  a  constant  progress  to  a  single  point. 
For  this  is  the  model  species,  as  we  have  seen.  The 
textual,  and  the  expository  sermon,  must  be  as 
closely  assimilated  to  this  species,  as  is  possible,  by 
being  founded  upon  a  single  portion  of  Scripture, 


SPECIES   OF   SERMONS.  157 

that  is  complete  in  itself,  and  by  teacLing  one 
general  lesson.  Moreover,  textual  and  expository 
sermons  will  not  be  likely  to  possess  this  oratorical 
structure,  and  to  breathe  this  eloquent  spiiit,  un- 
less the  j^reacher  is  in  the  habit  of  constructing 
proper  orations ;  unless  he  understands  the  essential 
distinction  between  eloquence  and  philosophy,  and 
makes  his  audience  feel  the  difference  between  the 
sacred  essay  and  the  sacred  oration. 

Next  in  order,  follows  the  textual  sermon  ;  and 
this  species  is  next  in  value,  for  the  purposes  of 
persuasion.  Easy  and  natural  in  its  structure, — 
its  parts  being  either  the  repetition  of  Scripture 
phraseology,  or  else  suggestions  from  it, — the 
textual  sermon  should  be  frequently  employed  by 
the  preacher. 

And,  lastly,  the  expository  sermon  should  be 
occasionally  employed.  There  is  somewhat  less 
call  for  this  variety,  than  there  was,  before  the 
establishment  of  Sabbath-Schools  and  Bible-Classes. 
Were  it  not  that  these  have  taken  the  exposition 
of  Scripture  into  their  own  charge,  one  very  con- 
siderable part  of  the  modern  preacher's  duty,  as  it 
was  of  the  Christian  Fathers  and  the  Reformers, 
would  be  to  expound  the  Bible.  Under  the 
present  arrangements  of  the  Christian  Church,  how- 
ever, the  ministry  is  relieved  fi-om  this  duty  to  a 
considerable  extent.  But  it  is  not  wholly  relieved 
from  it.  It  is  the  duty  of  the  preacher,  occasionally, 
to  lay  out  his  best  strength,  in  the  production  of  an 


158  HOMILETICS 

elaborate  expository  sermon,  wliicli  shall  not  only 
do  tlie  ordinary  work  of  a  sermon,  wliicli  sliall  not 
only  instruct,  awaken,  and  move,  but  wliicli  shall 
also  serve  as  a  sort  of  guide  and  model,  for  the 
teacher  of  the  Sabbath-School  and  the  Bible-Class. 
Such  sennonizino;  becomes  an  aid  to  the  instructor, 
in  getting  at  the  substance  of  revelation,  and  in 
bringing  it  out  before  the  minds  of  the  young. 
Probably  the  preacher  can  take  no  course,  so  well 
adapted  to  elevate  the  standard  of  Sabbath-School 
and  Bible-Class  instruction  in  his  congregation,  as, 
occasionally,  to  deliver  a  well-constructed  and  care- 
fully elaborated  expository  discourse. 

By  employing,  in  this  manner,  all  three  of  the 
species,  in  their  relative  and  proper  proportions, 
the  preacher  will  accomplish  more  for  his  peojole, 
and  for  his  own  mind,  than  by  confining  himself  to 
one  sj^ecies  only.  As  the  years  of  his  ministry  roll 
on,  he  will  bring  the  whole  Bible  into  contact  with 
the  hearts  and  consciences  of  his  audience.  Divine 
Revelation,  in  this  way,  will  become  all  that  it  is  capa- 
ble of  becoming  for  the  mind  of  man,  because  all  its 
elements  will  be  wrought  into  the  mass  of  society. 
The  j^reacher  himself  will  perform  all  his  functions, 
and  not  a  portion  only.  He  will  instruct  and  awa- 
ken, he  will  indoctrinate  and  enkindle,  he  will  inform 
and  move,  he  will  rebuke,  reprove,  and  exhort.  In 
short,  he  will  in  this  way  minister  to  the  greatest 
variety  of  wants,  and  build  up  the  greatest  variety 
and  breadth  of  Christian  character,  in  the  Church. 


CHAPTER    yil. 

THE  NATURE  AND   CHOICE   OF  A  TEXT. 

The  sermon  is  always  founded  upon  a  passage 
of  Scripture,  wliicli  is  denominated  a  text.  This 
term  is  derived  from  tlie  Latin  textum,  wliicli  signi- 
fies woven.  The  text,  therefore,  etymologically  de- 
notes, either  a  portion  of  inspiration  that  is  woven 
into  the  whole  web  of  Holy  Writ,  and  which,  there- 
fore, must  be  interpreted  in  its  connection  and  rela- 
tions, or  else  a  portion  of  inspiration  that  is  woven 
into  the  whole  fabric  of  the  sermon.  We  need  not 
confine  ourselves  to  either  meaning  exclusively,  but 
may  combine  both  significations.  A  text,  then,  is 
a  passage  of  inspiration  which  is  woven,  primarily, 
into  the  web  of  Holy  Writ,  and,  secondarily,  into 
the  web  of  a  discourse.  By  uniting  both  of  the 
etymological  meanings  of  the  word,  we  are  led  to 
observe  the  two  imjDortant  facts,  that  the  subject  of 
a  sermon  is  an  organic  part  of  Scripture,  and  there- 
fore must  not  be  torn  away  alive  and  bleeding,  from 
the  body  of  which  it  is  a  vital  part ;  and,  secondly. 


160  noinLETTCs. 

that  the  subject  or  text  of  a  sermon  should  2:)erva(ie 
the  whole  structure  which  it  serves  to  originate  and 
organize.  If  this  definition  of  the  text  be  kept  in 
mind,  and  practically  acted  upon,  it  will  prevent 
the  sermonizer  from  treatin<:>:  it  out  of  its  connection 
vrith  the  context,  and  the  general  tenor  of  revela- 
tion, and  will  lead  him  to  regard  it  as  the  formative 
principle  and  power  of  his  sermon,  and  to  make 
it  such.  The  text,  then,  will  not  be  tortured  to 
teach  a  doctrine  contrary  to  the  general  teach- 
ings of  inspiration,  and  it  "will  be  something 
more  than  a  motto  for  a  series  of  observations 
drawn  from  a  merely  human  source,  the  preacher's 
own  mind. 

The  custom  of  founding  religious  discourse  upon 
a  text,  has  prevailed  ever  since  there  has  been  a 
body  of  inspiration,  from  which  to  take  a  text.  In 
the  patriarchal  age,  religious  teachers  spoke  as  they 
were  moved  by  the  Holy  Ghost,  without  a  j^assage 
from  the  Canon  of  inspiration,  because  the  Canon  was 
not  yet  formed.  Noah  was  a  "  j^reacher  of  righteous- 
ness," and  probably  reasoned  of  righteousness,  tem- 
perance, and  judgment  to  come,  much  as  Paul  did 
before  Felix,  without  any  formal  proposition  derived 
from  a  body  of  Holy  Writ.  As  early  as  the  time  of 
Ezra,  ho\7ever,  we  find  the  Sacred  Canon,  which  dur- 
ing the  captivity  had  fallen  into  neglect,  made  the 
basis  of  religious  instruction.  Ezra,  accompanied  by 
the  Levites,  in  a  public  congregation  "read  in  the  law 
of  God  distinctly,  and  gave  the  sense,  and  caused  them 


THE   TEXT.  161 

to  understand  tLe  reading:." ^  Our  Saviour,  as  Lis 
custom  was  (conforming,  undoubtedly,  to  tlie  gene- 
ral Jewish  custom),  went  into  the  synagogue  on  the 
Sabbath  day,  and  "  stood  up  for  to  read"  the  Old 
Testament.  He  selected  the  first,  and  part  of  the 
second  verse  of  the  sixty-first  chapter  of  Isaiah,  for 
his  text,  and  preached  a  sermon  upon  it,  which 
fastened  the  eyes  of  every  man  in  tlie  synagogue 
upon  him,  in  the  very  beginning,  and  which,  not- 
withstanding its  gracious  words,  finally  developed 
their  latent  malignity,  and  filled  them  with  wrath, 
so  that  they  led  him  to  the  brow  of  the  precij)ice  on 
which  their  city  vras  built,  that  they  might  cast  him 
down  headlong.^  The  apostles,  also,  frequently  dis- 
coursed from  passages  of  Scripture.  Peter,  soon 
after  the  return  of  the  disciples  from  the  Mount  of 
Ascension,  preached  a  discourse  from  Psalm  cix.  8, 
the  object  of  which  was,  to  induce  the  Church  to 
choose  an  apostle  in  the  place  of  Judas.^  And 
again,  on  the  day  of  Pentecost,  this  same  apostle 
preached  a  discourse,  founded  u2:)on  Joel  ii.  28-32, 
which  was  instrumental  in  the  conversion  of  three 
thousand  souls.^  Sometimes,  again,  the  discoui"se, 
instead  of  being  more  2:>roperly  homiletic,  was  an 
abstract  of  sacred  history.  The  discourse  of  Ste- 
phen, when  arraigned  before  the  high  priest,  was 
of  this  kind.^    The  dense  and  mighty  oration  of 


»  Nehemiah  viii.  6-8.  *  Acts  ii.  14-36. 

'  Luke  iv.  16-29.  "  Acts  vii.  2-53. 

'Acts  i.  15,  sq. 

11 


162  noinLETios. 

'Paul,  on  Mars  Hill,  if  exfirained,  vrill  be  found  to 
be  made  up,  in  no  small  degree,  of  statements  and 
plirases  that  imply  a  tliorougli  acquaintance  with 
the  Old  Testament.  They  are  all  fused  and  amalga- 
mated, it  is  true,  with  the  thoughts  that  came  fresh 
and  new  from  Paul's  own  inspiration,  and  yet  they 
are  part  and  particle  of  the  earlier  inspiration  under 
the  Jewish  economy. 

The  homilies  of  the  early  Christian  Church,  in 
the  post-apostolic  age,  were  imitations  of  these  dis- 
courses in  the  Jewish  synagogue,  and  of  these 
sermons  of  the  apostles.  They  became  more  ela- 
borate and  rhetorical,  in  proportion  as  audiences 
became  more  cultivated ;  and,  on  the  other  hand, 
they  became  less  excellent,  both  in  matter  and  in 
form,  in  proportion  as  the  Church  became  ignorant 
and  superstitious.  But,  during  all  the  changes 
which  the  sermon  underwent,  it  continued  to  be 
founded  ujoon  a  passage  of  Scripture,  and  to  contain 
more  or  less  of  Scripture  matter  and  phraseology. 
Melancthon  does  indeed  mention,  as  one  of  the 
inconsistencies  and  errors  of  Popery,  that  the  Ethics 
of  Aristotle  were  read  in  church,  and  that  texts 
were  taken  from  his  ^viitings.  Still,  as  a  general 
thing,  the  ministry,  whether  scriptural  or  unscrip- 
tural  in  its  character,  has,  in  all  ages  since  there 
has  been  a  collected  Sacred  Canon,  gone  to  it  for  the 
foundation  of  its  public  discourse.  That,  at  this 
time,  there  is  less  likelihood  than  ever  before  of  this 
custom,  becoming  antiquated,  is  one  of  the  strongest 


THE   TEXT.  1G3 

grounds  for  Relieving  that  Christianity  is  to  prevail 
throuo-hout  the  earth.  We  have  now  the  best 
reason  for  thinkino;  that  to  the  end  of  time,  wherever 
there  shall  be  the  sermon,  there  will  be  the  Bible ; 
and  that  wherever  there  shall  be  homiletic  discourse, 
there  will  be  a  Scriptural  basis  for  it. 

The  following  reasons  may  be  assigned,  for 
selecting  a  passage  of  Scripture  as  the  foundation 
of  the  sermon :  1.  First,  the  selection  2:)uts  honor 
upon  Revelation.  It  is  a  tacit  and  very  imj)ressive 
acknowledgment,  that  the  Scriptures  are  the  great 
source  of  religious  knowledge.  Every  sermon  that 
is  preached,  throughout  Christendom,  in  its  very 
beo'inniuix,  and  also  throuo-h  its  whole  structure, 
points  significantly  to  the  Divine  Revelation,  and  in 
this  way  its  paramount  authority  over  all  other 
literature  is  affirmed.  No  sermonizer  coujd  now 
take  his  text  from  a  human  production,  even  though 
it  should  contain  the  very  substance,  and  breathe 
the  very  spirit  of  the  Bil^le,  ^vithout  shocking  the 
taste,  and  the  religious  sensibilities  of  his  audience. 
This  fact  shows,  that  the  practice  of  which  we  are 
speaking  fosters  reverence  for  the  Word  of  God,  and 
that  it  is  consequently  a  good  one.  2.  Secondly, 
the  practice  of  selecting  a  text  results  in  the  ex- 
tended exposition  of  the  Scriptures,  to  the  general 
mind.  Sermonizing,  while  it  is  truly  oratorical,  in 
this  way  becomes  truly  expository.  The  sermon  is 
a  regularly  constructed  discourse,  and  yet,  when  it 
is  founded  upon  a  text,  and  is  pervaded  by  it,  it 


164  HOMILETICS. 

contains  more  or  less  of  commentary.  In  tliis  way, 
tlie  general  mind  is  made  acquainted  with  the  con- 
tents of  Revelation.  3.  Thirdly,  the  sermon,  when 
based  npon  a  text,  is  more  likely  to  possess  unity, 
and  a  methodical  structure.  If  the  preacher  should 
give  no  one  general  direction  to  his  mind,  by  a 
passage  of  inspiration,  the  sermon  would  degene- 
rate into  a  series  of  remarks,  that  would  have  little 
use,  or  apparent  connection  with  each  other.  Like 
the  observations  of  a  person  when  called  upon, 
without  any  premeditation,  to  sj^eak  in  a  public 
meeting,  the  sermon,  though  religious  in  its  matter, 
would  be  more  or  less  ramblins;  in  its  manner. 
Without  a  text,  the  preacher  would  be  likely  to 
say  what  came  uppermost,  provided  only  it  had 
some  reference  to  relis^ion.  And  the  ill  eftects  of 
this  course  would  not  stop  here.  The  sermon  would 
become  more  and  more  ramblino^,  and  less  and  less 
religious  in  its  character,  until,  owing  to  this  neglect 
of  the  Scriptures,  it  would  eventually  become  dis- 
severed from  them,  and  the  sacred  oration  would 
thus  become  secular.  4.  Fourthly,  the  selection  of 
a  text  aids  the  memory  of  the  hearer.  It  furnishes 
him  with  a  brief  statement,  which  contains  the 
whole  substance  of  the  sermon,  and  is  a  clue  to 
lead  him  through  its  several  parts.  We  all  know 
that  the  hearer  betakes  himself  to  the  text,  first  of 
all,  when  called  upon  to  give  an  account  of  a  dis- 
course. If  he  remembers  the  text,  he  is  generally 
able  to  mention  the  proposition,  and  more  or  less 


THE  TEXT.  165 

of  the  trains  of  thoiigM.  5.  Fifthly,  the  text 
imparts  authority  to  the  preacher's  words.  The 
sermon,  when  it  is  really  fouuded  upon  a  passage  of 
inspiration,  and  is  truly  pervaded  by  it,  possesses  a 
sort  of  semi-inspiration  itself.  It  is  more  than  a 
merely  human  and  secular  product.  The  Holy 
Spirit  acknowledges  it  as  such,  by  employing  it  for 
purposes  of  conviction  and  conversion.  A  merely 
and  wholly  human  production,  properly  secular 
eloquence,  is  not  one  of  those  things  which  the 
Holy  Ghost  "  takes  and  shows  unto  the  soul."  A 
truly  scriptural  discourse,  provided  we  do  not  strain 
the  phraseology  too  fixr,  has  much  of  the  authority 
of  Scripture  itself. 

The  following  are  some  of  the  rules,  that  should 
guide  in  the  choice  of  a  text :  1.  First,  a  passage  of 
Scrij)ture  should  be  selected,  towards  which  the 
mind  at  the  time  spontaneously  moves.  Choose  a 
text  that  attracts  and  strikes  the  mind.  The  best 
sermons  are  written  upon  such  passages,  because 
the  preacher  enters  into  them  with  vigor  and 
heartiness.  Yet,  such  texts  are  not  always  to  be 
found.  They  do  not  present  themselves  at  the  very 
moment  they  are  wanted.  Hence,  the  sermonizer 
must  aid  nature  by  art,  must  cultivate  spontaneity 
by  i^rudence  and  forethought.  He  should  keep  a 
book  of  texts,  in  which  he  habitually  and  carefully 
writes  down  every  text  that  strikes  him,  togellier 
loitlh  all  of  the  skeleton  that  presents  itself  to  him  at 
the  time.     Let  him  by  no  means  omit  this  last  par- 


166  HOSHLETICS. 

ticular.  In  tliis  way,  the  spontaneous  movements 
of  liis  mind  will  be  on  record.  The  fresh  and 
cenial  texts  that  occur,  too-ether  with  the  ori2:inal 

O  JO  o 

and  genial  plans  which  they  suggest,  will  all  be 
■^yithin  reach,  A  sermonizer  who  thus  aids  nature 
by  art,  will  never  be  at  a  loss  for  subjects.  He 
will  be  embarrassed  more  by  his  riches  than  his 
poverty. 

2!  Secondly,  a  text  should  be  complete  in  itself. 
By  this,  it  is  not  meant  that  it  should  be  short. 
No  rule  can  be  given  for  the  length  of  a  text.  The 
most  that  is  required  is,  that  the  passage  of  Scrip- 
ture, selected  as  the  foundation  of  the  sacred  oration, 
should,  like  the  oration  itself,  be  single,  full,  and 
unsuperfluous  in  its  character.  It  should  be  single, 
containing  only  one  general  theme.  It  should  be 
full,  not  a  meagre  and  partial  statement  of  this 
theme.  It  should  be  unsuperfluous,  not  redundant  in 
matter  that  would  lead  the  sermonizer  into  trains 
of  discussion,  and  reflection,  foreign  to  the  one 
definite  end  of  an  oration.  Texts  must  vary  in 
length,  from  the  necessity  of  the  case.  As  a  gen- 
eral rule,  however,  they  should  be  as  brief  as  is 
compatible  with  completeness.  Short  texts  are 
more  easily  remembered.  They  are  more  likely  to 
result  in  concise,  and  effective  sermons, — in  sermons 
that  are  free  from  prolixity,  and  that  converge 
constantly  to  a  single  end.  Sermouizers  like 
Latimer  and  South,  who  are  distinguished  for 
a  rapid,  driving  method,  afject   short  pithy  texts, 


THE   TEXT.  167 

like  tlie  following  :  "  Lying  lips  are  an  abomination 
to  the  Lord."  "  He  tliat  walketli  surely,  walketh 
■uprightly."  "  The  wisdom  of  this  world  is  foolish- 
ness with  God."  "  So  that  they  are  without  excuse." 
"  Be  sure  your  sin  will  find  you  out."  Again, 
23reachers  like  Alison  and  Blair,  who  are  distin- 
guished not  so  much  for  vigor  and  effectiveness, 
as  for  a  clean,  neat,  and  elegant  method,  select 
brief  texts,  like  these :  "  Thou  art  the  same ;  and 
thy  )'ear3  shall  not  fail."  "  In  your  patience,  pos- 
sess ye  your  souls."  "  Can  ye  not  discern  the 
signs  of  the  times  ?"  "  Thou  hast  made  summer 
and  winter."  "What  I  would,  that  I  do  not." 
"  Unstable  as  water,  thou  shalt  not  excel."  It  will 
be  found  to  be  true  generally,  that  in  proportion  as 
a  preacher's  mind  is  vivid  and  energetic,  and  tho 
public  mind  is  avv^ake  and  active,  texts  become 
brief,  and  sermons  become  direct  and  convergent. 
The  texts  of  the  sermons  preached  by  the  Gerniaii 
and  English  Reformers  are  short  and  pregnant. 
Besides  being  easily  remembered,  a  short  text 
allows  of  emphatic  repetition.  Some  sermons 
become  very  effective,  by  the  reiteration  of  the 
inspired  declaration,  at  the  conclusion  of  each  head. 
In  til  is  instance,  the  text  becomes  a  clincher.  The 
affirmations  of  the  preacher  are  nailed.,  to  use  a 
phrase  of  Burns,  with  Scripture.^ 

'  "Even  ministers,  they  lia'e  bocu  keuucd, 
In  holy  raptnre, 

A  rousing  wliid  at  times  to  vend, 
And  nail't  \vi'  Scripture." 


168  HOMILETICS. 

3.  Tliirdly,  a  text  sliould  be  cliosen,  from  wliicli 
the  proposition  of  the  sermon  is  derived  j^lainly, 
and  naturally.  Sometimes,  a  j^reacher  desires  to 
present  a  certain  subject,  which  he  has  revolved  in 
his  mind,  and  upon  which  his  trains  of  thought  are 
full  and  consecutive,  and  merely  prefaces  his  ser- 
mon with  a  passage  of  Scripture  which  has  only  a 
remote  connection  with  his  theme.  In  this  case, 
the  relation  of  the  sermon  to  the  text  is  that  of 
adjustment,  rather  than  that  of  development.  Hav- 
ing made  selection  of  a  passage  from  which  his 
proposition,  and  trains  of  thought,  do  not  naturally 
flow,  he  is  compelled  to  torture  the  text  into  an 
apparent  unity  with  the  discourse.  Rather  than 
take  this  course,  it  would  be  better  to  make  the 
text  a  mere  motto,  or  title,  and  not  pretend  to  an 
unfolding  of  a  Scripture  passage.  But  there  is  no 
need  of  this.  The  Bible  is  rich  in  texts  for  all 
legitimate  sermons,  for  all  propositions  and  trains 
of  thought  that  properly  arise  within  the  province 
of  sacred,  as  distinguished  from  secular  eloquence. 
Let  the  ]3reacher  take  pains,  and  find  the  very  pas- 
sage he  needs,  and  not  content  himself  with  one 
that  has  only  an  apparent  connection  ^vith  his 
subject.  But  when  the  passage  selected  is  a  true 
text, — that  is,  a  portion  of  Scripture  out  of  which 
the  23ropositiou,  trains  of  thought,  and  whole  sub- 
stance of  the  discourse,  are  woven^ — let  the  preacher 
see  to  it,  that  he  derives  from  it  nothing  that  is  not 
in  it.     His  business  is  not  to  involve  into  the  text, 


THE  TEXT.  169 

somethins:  tliat  is  extrinsic,  but  to  evolve  out  of  it, 
sometLiDg  tliat  is  intrinsic.  Hence,  a  text  should 
be  of  sucli  a  character,  as  evidently  to  furnish  one 
plain  and  significant  proj^tosition,  and  to  allow  of  a 
straight-forward,  easy,  and  real  development  of  it. 

4.  Fourthly,  oddity  and  eccentricity  should  be 
avoided,  in  selecting  a  text.  There  is  more  need  of 
this  rule,  now,  than  formerly.  The  j^ublic  mind  is 
more  ludicrous  in  its  associations,  and  more  fastidi- 
ous in  its  taste,  than  two  centuries  ago.  In  the 
older  sermonizers,  applications  of  Sciipture  are 
very  frequent,  that  involuntarily  provoke  a  smile  in 
a  modern  reader,  but  which  in  their  day  were  lis- 
tened to  with  the  utmost  gravity,  by  sober-minded 
men  and  women.  The  doctrine  of  a  double  sense, 
together  with  a  strong  allegorizing  tendency,  in 
both  preacher  and  hearer,  contributed  to  this  use 
of  Scripture,  which  seems  to  us  iimciful,  and  often- 
times ludicrous. 

Illustrations  of  this  trait  are  without  number. 
Dr.  Eachard,  whose  volume  gives  a  very  lively  pic- 
ture of  the  condition  of  the  English  clergy  at  the 
close  of  the  seventeenth,  and  the  beorinninir  of  the 
eighteenth  century,  furnishes  some  curious  examj^les 
of  this  eccentric  spirit,  both  in  the  choice  of  texts, 
and  in  drawing  out  doctrine  from  it.  He  tells  us 
of  a  preacher,  who  selected  Acts  xvi.  30 :  "  Sirs, 
what  must  I  do  to  be  saved,"  and  preached  upon 
the  divine  right  of  Episcopacy.  "  For  Paul  and 
Silas   are   called   'Sirs,'   and   'Sirs'   bcini^-   in   the 


rO  •  noinLETics. 

Greek  xvpioi,  and  this,  in  strict  translation,  meaning 
'  Lords,'  it  is  perfectly  plain,  tliat  at  tliat  time  Epis- 
copacy was  not  only  tlie  acknowledged  government, 
but  tliat  bishops  were  peers  of  the  realm,  and  so 
0U2;ht  to  sit  in  the  House  of  Lords."  Another 
23reacher,  in  the  time  of  Charles  II,  he  says,  selected 
for  his  text,  the  words  :  "  Seek  first  the  kingdom  of 
God,"  and  drew  from  them  the  proposition,  that 
kingly  government  is  most  in  accordance  with  the 
will  of  God.  "  For  it  is  not  said,  seek  the  p«;'Zm- 
ment  of  God,  the  a?'m7/  of  God,  or  the  committee  of 
safety  of  God  ;  but  it  is,  seek  the  hingdom  of  God." 
Another  preacher  took  Matthew  i.  2 :  "  Abraham 
begat  Isaac,"  and  argued  against  pluralists,  and  non- 
residency,  in  the  ministry :  "  For  had  Abraham  not 
resided  with  Sarah  his  wife,  he  could  not  have 
besrot  Isaac."  Another  sermonizer  selected  Isaiah 
xli.  14,  15:  "Fear  not,  thou  worm  Jacob,  .  .  . 
thou  shalt  thresh  mountains,"  and  drew  the  infer- 
ence, that  the  worm  Jacob  was  a  threshing  worm. 
In  the  same  vein,  another  preacher  takes  for  his 
text  Isaiah  Iviii.  5  :  "Is  it  such  a  fast  that  I  have 
chosen?  A  day  for  a  man  to  aiilict  his  soul  ?  Is  it 
to  bow  down  his  head  as  a  bulrush  ?"  and  deduces 
the  proposition,  that  "repentance  for  an  hour,  or  a 
day,  is  not  worth  a  bulrush."  Still  another  preacher 
selected  his  text  from  Psalm  xciv.  19:  "In  the 
multitude  of  my  thoughts  within  me,  thy  comforts 
delight  my  soul,"  and  preached  upon  election  and 
reprobation,  deducing  the  proj^osition,  "that  amongst 


THE  TEXT.  I7l 

the  multitude  of  tliouglits,  there  was  a  great  thought 
of  election  and  reprobation."^  Similar  examples  of 
eccentricity,  in  the  choice  and  treatment  of  a  text, 
have  been  handed  down  from  other  sources.  An 
aged  New  England  minister,  during  the  colonial 
period,  once  j^reached  before  a  very  unpopular  dep- 
uty governor,  from  Job  xx.  6,  Y :  "  Though  his 
Excellency  mount  up  to  the  heavens,  and  his  head 
reach  unto  the  clouds,  yet  he  shall  perish  forever 
like  his  own  dung."  Another  preached  to  the 
newly  married  couj^les  of  his  congregation,  upon  a 
part  of  Psalm  Ixxii.  7:  "And  abundance  of  peace 
so  loncc  as  the  onoon  endureth."  Dean  Swift  is 
reported  to  have  preached  the  annual  sermon  to 
the  Associated  Tailors  of  Dublin,  upon  the  text : 
"  A  remnant  shall  be  saved."  Among  his  printed 
sermons,  there  is  one  upon  Acts  xx.  9  :  "  And  there 
sat  in  the  window  a  certain  young  man  named 
Eutychus,  having  fallen  into  a  deep  sleej:) :  and  as 
Paul  Avas  long  preaching,  he  sunk  down  with  sleep, 
and  fell  down  from  the  third  loft,  and  was  taken 
uj:)  dead,"  which  thus  begins :  "  I  have  chosen  these 
words,  with  design,  if  possible,  to  disturb  some  part 
in  this  audience  of  half  an  hour's  sleep,  for  the 
convenience  and  exercise  whereof,  this  place,  at  this 
season  of  the  day,  is  very  much  celebrated."' 

Such  instances  as  these,  however,  are  very  dif- 
ferent from  that  quaint  humor,  of  preachers  like 

*  Eaciiakd  :    Works,    p.    GO,  '  Swift  :    Works,  "Vol.   XIV. 

et  al.  Sermon  10. 


172  nOMILETICS. 

Hugli  Latimer,  and  Matthew  Henry,  wliicli  is  so 
mingled  with  devout  and  holy  sentiment,  as  to  lose 
all  triviality,  and  to  make  only  a  serious  imj^ression. 
The  following  from  the  commentary  of  Henry, 
while  it  raises  a  smile,  only  deepens  the  sense  of 
the  truth  conveyed.  Remarking  upon  the  require- 
ment of  the  Mosaic  law,  that  the  green  ears  of  corn, 
offered  as  a  meat  offering,  must  be  dried  by  the  fire, 
so  that  the  corn  might  be  beaten  out,  Henry 
observes,  that  "  if  those  who  are  young  do  God's 
work  as  well  as  they  can,  they  shall  be  accepted, 
though  they  cannot  do  it  as  well  as  those  that  are 
aged,  and  experienced.  God  makes  the  best  of 
green  ears  of  corn,  and  so  must  we."^ 

By  far  the  most  culpable  contortion  of  passages 
of  Scripture,  out  of  their  natural  meaning  and  con- 
nection, is  found  in  the  history  of  those  theological 
schools,  whose  pulpits,  having  rejected  the  doctrines 
of  sin  and  grace,  were  forced  to  find  substitutes  for 
these,  in  semi-religious,  or  wholly  secular  themes. 
During  the  prevalence  of  Rationalism  in  Germany, 
"  sermons  were  preached,  everywhere,  upon  such 
subjects  as  the  care  of  health,  the  necessity  of  iudus 
try,  the  advantages  of  scientific  tillage,  the  necessity 
of  gaining  a  competence,  the  duties  of  servants,  the 
ill-eftects  of  law-suits,  and  the  folly  of  superstitious 
opinions.  It  is  said,  that  Christmas  was  taken 
advantage  of,  to  connect  the  sad  story  of  the  child 

*  IIeney  :  Com.  on  Leviticus  iii.  14. 


THE  TEXT.  173 

born  in  a  mauger,  witli  the  most  approved  metliods 
of  feeding  cattle ;  and  tlio  appearance  of  Jesus 
^  walking  in  the  garden,  at  the  break  of  day  on  the 
Easter  morning,  with  the  benefit  of  rising  early, 
and  taking  a  walk  before  breakfast.  Not  a  word 
was  heard  regarding  atonement  and  faith,  sin  and 
the  judgment,  salvation,  grace,  and  Christ's  king- 
dom. A  selfish  love  of  pleasure,  and  a  selfish  the- 
oiy  of  life,  put  a  selfish  system  of  morals  in  the 
place  of  a  lofty  religion.  The  old-fashioned  system 
of  religious  service  had  to  be  modified,  and  adjusted 
to  this  new  style  of  preaching,  which  was  as  clear 
as  water,  and  as  thin  as  water  too."^  This  descrip- 
tion, by  a  veiy  candid  "svi'iter,  of  a  state  of  things 
in  Germany,  in  the  last  century,  will  apply  to  some 
phenomena  of  the  present  day,  both  in  England 
and  America.  The  pressure  of  the  evangelical 
spirit,  which  is  dominant  in  these  countries,  restrains 
the  extreme  workings  of  this  tendency,  in  the  pul- 
pit ;  and  yet  it  is  plainly  seen  in  what  is  called  the 
"  sensational "  discourse,  which  is  commonly  found- 
ed upon  a  text  torn  entirely  out  of  its  exegetical 
nexus,  and  filled  with  matter  drawn  from  the  four 
winds,  rather  than  from  the  Christian  Revela- 
tion. 

A  disputed  text  should  not  be  selected,  as  the 
basis  of  a  discourse.  This  rule  applies  more  j)ar- 
ticularly  to  doctrinal  preaching,  yet  it  has  its  value 

'  IlAQEXBAcn  :  German  Kationalism,  p,  105, 


174  IIOMILETICS. 

for  sermonizing  generally.  The  preaclier  sliould 
choose  the  very  plainest,  most  significant  and 
pointed  passages  of  Scripture,  as  the  suj^port  of  his 
doctrinal  discourses.  He  is  then  relieved  from  the 
necessity  of  first  proving,  that  the  doctrine  in  ques- 
tion is  taught  in  the  passage,  and  can  devote  his 
whole  time,  and  strength,  to  its  exposition  and 
establishment.  The  less  there  is  of  polemics  in 
sacred  oratory,  the  better.  The  more  there  is  of 
direct  inculcation,  without  any  regard  to  oj^posing 
theories  and  statements,  the  more  efiicient,  energetic, 
and  oratorical,  will  be  the  sermon.  The  controver- 
sial tone  is  unfavorable  to  the  bold,  positive,  unem- 
barrassed tone  of  Sacred  Eloquence.  Disputed  texts 
should,  therefore,  be  left  to  the  philologist  and  the 
theologian.  When  these  have  settled  their  true 
meaning,  so  far  as  it  can  be  settled,  such  texts  may 
be  employed  to  corroborate,  and  to  illustrate,  but 
not  to  build  upon  from  the  foundation. 

By  this,  it  is  not  meant  that  the  preacher  has 
no  concern  with  such  passages  of  inspiration.  The 
preacher  is,  or  should  be,  a  philologist  and  a  theo- 
logian, and  in  his  study  should  examine  such 
passages,  and  form  a  judgment  in  respect  to  them. 
But  let  him  not  do  this  work  in  the  pulpit.  The 
pulpit  is  the  j^lace  for  the  delivery  of  eloquence, 
and  not  of  philology,  or  philosophy,  or  technical 
theology.  The  rhetorical  presentation  of  thought 
is  the  mode  which  the  preacher  is  to  employ,  and 
nothing  more  interferes  with  this,  than  the  minute 


THE   TEXT.  175 

examinations  of  criticism,  and  tbe  slow  and  cautious 
processes  of  pure  science. 

Tliis  maxim  is  also  valuaT)le,  not  only  in  refer- 
ence to  strictly  doctrinal  preaching,  but  to  all 
preaching.  The  text  is,  or  should  be,  the  key-note 
to  the  whple  sermon.  The  more  bold,  the  more 
undoubted  and  undisputed,  its  tone,  the  better.  A 
text  of  this  character  is  like  a  premonitory  blast  of 
a  'trumpet.  It  challenges  attention,  and  gets  it. 
It  startles, and  impresses,  by  its  direct  and  authori- 
tative announcement  of  a  great  and  solemn  proposi- 
tion. Nothing  remains  then,  but  for  the  preacher 
to  go  out  upon  it,  with  his  whole  weight ;  to  unfold 
and  a23ply  its  evident  undoubted  meaning,  with  all 
the  moral  confidence,  and  all  the  serious  earnest- 
ness, of  which  he  is  capable. 

The  inference  to  be  drawn  from  these  reasons 
for  the  selection  of  a  j^-'issage  of  Scripture,  as  the 
foundation  of  a  sermon,  and  these  rules  for  making 
the  selection,  is,  that  the  greatest  possible  lahor,  and 
care^  sliould  he  expended  tqyoii  the  choice  of  a  text. 
As,  in  secular  oratory,  the  selection  of  a  subject  is 
either  vital,  or  fiital,  to  the  whole  performance;  so, 
in  sacred  oratory,  the  success  of  the  jircacher  de- 
pends entirely  u2)on  the  fitness  of  his  choice  of  a  text. 
The  text  is  his  subject.  It  is  the  germ  of  his 
whole  discourse.  Provided,  therefore,  he  has  found 
an  apt  and  excellent  one,  he  has  found  his  sermon 
substantially. 

All  labor  therefore,  that  is  expended  upon  a 


176  HOMILETICS. 

text,  is  wisely  and  economically  expended.  Every 
jot  and  tittle  of  painstaking,  in  fixing  upon  paper 
a  congenial  passage  of  Scripture,  and  in  setting  up 
all  of  tlie  skeleton  that  presents  itself  at  tlie  time  ; 
every  jot  and  tittle  of  painstaking,  in  examining 
the  passage  in  the  original  Hebrew,  or  Greek,  and 
in  studying,  in  tliese  same  languages^  the  context, 
and  the  2:>arallel  passages  ;^  every  particle  of  care, 
in  first  obtaining  an  excellent  text,  and  then  getting 
at,  and  getting  out,  its  real  meaning  and  scope, 
goes  to  render  the  actual  construction  and  composi- 
tion of  the  sermon,  more  easy  and  successful. 
Labor  at  this  point,  saves  labor  at  all  after 
points. 

The  preacher  ought  to  make  careful,  and  exten- 
sive, preparation  in  respect  to  pulpit  themes.  His 
common-place  book  of  texts  should  be  a  large 
volume,  in  the  outset,  and  if  he  is  faithful  to  him- 
self, and  his  calling,  he  will  find  the  volumes 
increasing.  Instead  of  buying  the  volumes  of 
skeletons  that  are  so  frequently  oifered  at  the 
present  day,  the  preacher  must  make  them  for 
himself.  It  was  fonnerly  the  custom,  iu  an  age 
that  was  more  theological  than  the  present,  for 
every  preacher  to  draw  up  a  "  body  of  divinity," 
for  himself, — the  summing  up,  and  result,  of  his 
studies    and    reflections.      Every   preacher    knew 

*  The  rigid  observance  of  this  times,  it  is  to  be  feared,  even  the 
one  practice  will  prevent  the  Greek)  from  becoming  a  "lost 
Hebrew    language,     (and    some-    art,"  to  the  preacher. 


THE   TEXT.  177 

what  his  theological  system  was,  and  could  state 
it,  and  defend  it.  And,  although,  at  first  sight, 
we  might  suppose  that  this  custom  would  lead  to 
great  diversities  of  opinion  among  the  clergy,  it  is 
yet  a  fact,  that  there  never  was  more  substantial 
and  sincere  unity  of  belief,  than  among  the  Protes- 
tant clergy  of  England  and  the  Continent,  during 
those  highly  theological  centuries,  the  sixteenth  and 
seventeenth.  There  was  no  invention  of  new 
theories,  but  the  old  and  established  theory,  the 
one  orthodox  faith  of  the  Christian  Church,  was 
made  to  pass  through  each  individual  mind,  and 
so  come  forth  with  all  the  freshness  and  freedom 
of  a  new  creation.  "  He  who  has  been  born,"  says 
E-ichter,  "  has  been  a  fii'st  man,  and  has  had  the  old 
and  common  world  lying  about  him,  as  new  and  as 
fresh,  as  it  lay  before  the  eyes  of  Adam  himself." 
So,  too,  he  who,  in  the  jorovidence  and  by  the  grace 
of  God,  has  become  a  theologian  and  a  preacher, 
has  no  other  world  of  thought  and  of  feeling,  to 
move  in,  than  that  old  world  of  Divine  Kevelation, 
in  which  the  glorious  company  of  the  aj)Ostles, 
and  the  goodly  fellowship  of  the  prophets  and 
preachers,  thought  and  felt ;  but  if  he  will  open  his 
eyes,  and  realize  where  he  stands,  and  by  what  he 
is  surrounded,  he  will  see  it,  as  his  predecessors  saw 
it,  in  all  the  freshness  of  its  real  nature,  and  in  all 
the  ma2:nificence  of  its  actual  infinitude.  Whether 
or  not,  the  preacher  imitates  this  example  of  an 
earlier  day,  in  regard  to  theologizing,  he  ought  to, 
12 


178  HOMILETICS. 

iu  regard  to  sermonizing.  Let  him  not  rely,  at  all, 
upon  tlie  texts  and  skeletons  of  otlier  preachers,  but 
let  liim  cultivate  this  field  by  himself,  and  for 
himself,  as  if  it  had  never  been  tilled  before.  Let 
him  pursue  this  business  of  selecting,  examining, 
decomposing,  and  recombining  textual  materials, 
vrith  all  the  isolation  and  independence  of  the  first 
preachers,  and  of  all  the  great  original  orators  of 
the  Christian  Church. 


CHAPTER    VIII. 

THE    PLAN    OF    A    SERMON. 

Ls"  distinguisliing  tlie  parts  of  a  sermon,  tlie  same 
maxim  aj^plies.  as  in  distinguisliing  tlie  different 
species  of  sermons.  The  distinctions  should  be 
simple,  generic,  and  as  few  as  possible.  Wc  shall 
adopt  the  enumeration  of  Aristotle,  in  his  llhetoric,^ 
and  regard  the  sacred  oration  as  made  up  of  the 
following  parts,  namely :  the  introduction^  the  ^wopo- 
sition^  tlie  jproof^  and  the  conclusion. 

1.  The  Introduction  is  that  part  of  the  sermon 
whicli  precedes  the  proposition,  and  the  proof.  In 
common  with  the  conclusion,  it  is  a  secondary  j^art 
of  an  oration  ;  the  primary  parts  being  tlie  proposi- 
tion and  the  proof.  These  latter,  Aristotle  denomi- 
nates "  necessary  "  parts,  "  for,"  he  says,  "  it  is  abso- 
lutely necessary  that  a  discourse  should  state  some- 
thing, and^:>ro?J6  it."  And  it  is  plain,  that  if  a  sermon 
could  have  but  two  parts,  the  proposition  and  the 
proof  of  it  would  possess  some  jiositive  value,  taken 
by  themselves,  ^vhile  an  introduction  and  a  conclu- 

'  Aeistoteles  :  De  Arte  ELetorica,  III.  xiii. 


180  nOMILETICS. 

sion,  taken  by  themselves,  Avould  be  worthless. 
Hence,  the  exceedingly  logical  and  rigorous  Aris- 
totle seems  to  hesitate,  at  first,  whether  he  shall  not 
regard  the  oration  as  consisting  of  but  two  parts, 
although  he  finally  admits  four/ 

The  introduction,  in  its  nature,  is  preparatory. 
It  does  not  lay  down  any  truth ;  it  does  not  establish 
any  doctrine;  it  simply  prepares  the  way  for  the 
fundamental  parts,  and  necessary  matter,  of  the  dis- 
course. In  secular  eloquence,  one  very  important 
object  of  the  exordium  is,  to  conciliate  the  hearer 
towards  tte  speaker ;  to  remove  prejudices,  and  to 
awaken  symj^athy  with  him.  There  is  not,  ordina- 
rily, any  need  of  an  exordium  for  this  purj)ose,  in 
sacred  eloquence.  The  preacher,  unless  he  has  been 
exceedingly  unfaithful  to  himself  and  his  calling, 
may  presume  upon  the  good-will  and  the  respect  of 
his  auditory,  and  need  not  waste  time  or  words,  in 
endeavoring  to  secure  a  favorable  attention  to  him- 
self, as  a  man.  It  is,  however,  sometimes  necessary 
that  the  preacher,  in  his  introduction,  should  con- 
ciliate his  audience  in  respect  to  his  subject.  If 
his  theme  is  a  very  solemn  and  awful  one,  if  the 
proof  and  discussion  of  it  lead  to  those  very  close 
and  pungent  trains  of  thought,  which  are  apt  to 
offend  fallen  human  nature,  it  is  well  for  the  ser- 
monizer,  to  prepare  the  mind  of  his  auditor  for  this 

^'AvayKata  apa  /xdpia  TrpdOemc  Kal     Aeistoteles:  De  Arte  Rbetorica, 
•niarig'  I6ia  fiev  ovv  ravra^  to.  6s  ir/iacr-     III.  xiii. 
ra  TTpooi/iiov  irpoOecri.q  Tztarig  irr'J.oyoq. 


PL  AX    OF   A   SEEMON.  181 

plain  dealing  with  Lis  heart  and  conscience.  The 
introduction,  in  this  case,  affords  an  opportunity  to 
remind  the  hearer,  that  preaching  is  for  the  soul's 
good  and  the  soul's  salvation ;  that  when  the  subject 
requires  it,  the  plainest  discourse  is  really  the  kind- 
est and  most  affectionate ;  that  the  truth  which  is  to 
be  established  and  applied,  is  a  part  of  God's  reve- 
lation, and  that,  however  severe  it  may  seem,  it  is 
the  severity  of  Divine  wisdom  and  love. 

The  ordinary  office  of  the  introduction,  however, 
is  to  exhibit  the  text  in  its  connections,  and  to  ex- 
plain its  less  obvious  meaning.  Some  ^viiters  upon 
Homiletics  assign  this  work  to  a  particular  part  of  the 
discourse,  which  they  denominate  the  explanation. 
It  is  better,  to  regard  it  as  belonging  to  the  introduc- 
tion. In  Sacred  Eloquence,  as  ^ve  have  already  ob- 
served, there  is,  generally,  no  need  of  that  concilia- 
tory matter,  either  in  respect  to  the  speaker  or  his 
subject,  which,  according  to  these  writers,  constitutes 
the  introduction  proper.  Hence,  most  sermons  can 
have  no  introduction,  except  this  exj)lauatory  one. 
Or,  again,  the  sermon  might  need  to  be  introduced 
by  some  conciliatory  matter,  and  require  no  expla- 
nation of  the  text.  Hence,  it  is  better  to  define  the 
introduction  as  consisting  of  all  the  matter,  be  it 
conciliatory,  or  explanatory,  or  both,  which  prejiares 
for  the  necessary  and  fundamental  parts  of  the 
sermon, — the  proposition  and  its  i:)roof. 

The  introduction  should  be  short.  Of  course,  it 
must  be  proportioned  to  the  length,  and  general 


182  HOMXETICS. 

stnictiire,  of  the  discourse.  Still,  bre\nty  should  be 
a  distinguishing  characteristic  of  the  exordium ;  and 
where  one  sermon  is  faulty  from  being  too  abruptly 
introduced,  one  hundred  are  faulty  from  a  too  long 
and  tiresome  preface.  It  is  easier  to  expand  the 
common  thoughts  of  the  introduction,  than  to  fill  out 
full,  and  thoroughly  elaborate,  the  argumentative 
parts  of  the  discourse ;  and  hence  we  too  often  listen 
to  sermons  which  remind  us  of  that  Galatian  church 
which  began  in  the  spirit,  but  ended  in  the  flesh. 
The  sennon  opens  with  a  promising  introduction, 
which  attracts  attention,  conciliates  the  audience, 
and  paves  the  way  to  a  noble  and  fertile  theme. 
But,  instead  of  bringing  the  exordium  to  a  close, 
and  commencing  with  the  development  of  a  subject, 
or  the  proof  of  a  proposition,  the  sermonizer  repeats, 
or  unduly  exjiands,  his  introductory  matter,  as  if  he 
dreaded  to  take  hold  of  his  theme.  The  conse- 
quence is,  that  the  theme  itself  is  not  handled  with 
any  strength  or  firmness  of  grasp,  and  the  long  and 
labored  introduction  only  serves  as  a  foil,  to  set  off 
the  brevity  and  inferiority  of  the  body  of  the  dis- 
course. Rather  than  take  this  course,  it  would  be 
better  for  the  sermonizer,  to  plunge  into  the  middle 
and  depths  of  his  subject,  at  once.  This  latter 
method  is  allowable,  occasionally.  "When  the  sub- 
ject is  a  veiy  fniitful  and  important  one,  ^d  the 
preacher  can  have  but  a  single  opportunity  of 
presenting  it,  it  is  perfectly  proper  to  disjDense 
with   every  thing  like   a  regular   and   oratorical 


PLAN   OF   A   SEEMOIT.  183 

exordium,  and  begin  witli  the  treatment  of  tlie 
tlieme  itself. 

2.  The  Proposition  is  the  enunciation  of  the 
particuL'ir  truth  which  is  to  be  established,  and 
applied,  in  the  sermon.  It  is,  therefore,  of  a  posi- 
tive and  affirmative  nature.  If,  consequently,  the 
truth  or  doctrine  to  be  taught,  and  applied,  has  at 
first  taken  on  a  negative  form,  it  is  best  to  convert  it 
into  an  affirmation.  The  demonstration  of  a  position 
is  more  favorable  to  eloquence,  than  of  a  negation." 
The  proposition  should,  also,  be  stated  in  the  most 
concise  manner  possible.  It  is,  or  should  be,  the 
condensation  and  epitome  of  the  whole  discourse, 
and  should,  therefore,  be  characterized  by  the  utmost 
density  of  meaning.  The  proposition  should,  also, 
be  stated  in  the  boldest  manner  possible.  By  this, 
it  is  not  meant  that  the  announcement  of  the  subject 
of  a  sermon  should  be  dogmatic,  in  the  bad  sense 
of  this  word.  This  should  be  guarded  against. 
But,  every  teaching,  or  tenet,  of  revelation,  ought  to 
be  laid  down  with  a  stron2:  confidence  of  its  abso- 
lute  trutlifulness.  "We  are  told  that  a  certain  audi- 
tory, upon  a  certain  occasion,  were  surj^rised  at  the 
doctrine  of  our  Saviour,  because  he  taught  them  as 
one  having  authority,  and  not  as  the  scril:)es.  Christ 
spake  as  never  man  spake,  for  he  spake  with  the 
commanding  dignity  of  a  higher  consciousness  than 
belongs  to  a  mere  man.  His  doctrines  carry  a  divine 
Aveight,  decisiveness,  and  authoritativeness,  with 
them,  which,  when  felt,  admits  no  aj^peal  and  no 


184  H03IILETICS. 

gainsaying,  on  the  part  of  tlie  Luman  miucl.  And, 
this  aiitlioritativeness  pertains  to  inspiration  as  a 
whole.  When,  therefore,  the  proposition  of  a  sermon 
is  a  legitimate  derivative  from  a  passage  of  Scripture, 
it  ought  to  be  expressed  in  such  a  manner  as  to 
preclude  all  hesitation,  doubt,  or  timorousness,  in 
the  phraseology.  A  weighty  conciseness,  and  a 
righteous  boldness,  ought  to  characterize  the  terms, 
and  form  of  the  proposition.  But,  in  order  that 
this  may  be  the  case,  the  utmost  care  must  be 
expended  upon  its  phraseology.  A  prepositional 
sentence  is  very  different  from  an  ordinary  sentence. 
It  should  be  constructed  much  more  elaborately. 
Its  phraseology  ought  to  be  as  near  perfection  as 
possible.  The  members,  and  clauses,  of  the  sentence 
which  is  to  enunciate  the  whole  doctrine  of  the 
discourse,  should  be  most  exactly  worded,  and  most 
cunningly  jointed.  The  proposition  of  a  sermon 
ouo;ht  to  be  eminent  for  the  nice  exactness  of  its 
expression,  and  the  hard  finish  of  its  diction.  As 
a  constituent  part  of  the  skeleton,  it  should  be 
piu'est  bone. 

We  have  thus  far  spoken  ot  the  proposition  of 
a  sermon,  as  a  definite  and  distinct  statement  which 
follows  the  introduction,  and  precedes  the  proof. 
It  is  not  necessary,  however,  that  a  discourse  should 
contain  a  formal  and  verbal  proposition,  in  order 
to  its  being  a  true  topical  sermon,  a  proper  oration. 
The  doctrine  may  be  so  inwoven  into  the  proof,  and 
discussion,  as  to  render  a  formal  statement  unneces- 


PLAK   OF  A   SERMON.  185 

sary.  The  proposition,  in  this  instance,  is  implied  in 
the  body  of  the  discourse.  This  is  generally  the  case, 
with  that  large  class  of  sermons  which  have  been  de- 
nominated subject-sermons.  These  contain  no  pro- 
position that  is  formally  announced,  although  they 
contain  one  that  is  really,  and  organically  inlaid. 
If  a  discourse  does  not  embody  a  proposition,  either 
expressly  or  by  imj^lication,  it  is  not  topical,  in  its 
nature.  Subject-sermons,  as  the  name  denotes,  take 
for  their  title,  not  a  proposition  established  and 
applied  in  them,  but  the  general  theme  with  which 
they  are  occuj^ied.  From  them,  however,  a  propo- 
sition can  be  drawn,  to  the  suj)port  and  enforcement 
of  which,  the  entire  body  of  the  discourse  is  sub- 
servient ;  and  this  proves  the  identity  with  the 
topical  sermon. 

"VVe  will  illustrate  this,  by  reference  to  a  sermon 
of  Saurin,  one  of  the  very  first  of  sermonizers, 
whether  we  consider  the  soundness  of  his  tliou2:ht, 
the  vigor  and  clearness  of  his  method,  or  the  plain 
elegance  of  his  rhetoric.  The  discourse  is  founded 
upon  1  Cor.  i.  21  :  "After  that  in  the  wisdom  of 
God,  the  world  by  wisdom  knew  not  God,  it  pleased 
God  by  the  foolishness  of  preaching  to  save  them 
that  believe."  The  title  of  tbe  sermon  is:  "The 
advantages  of  revelation."  The  translator  was, 
probably,  led  to  give  it  this  loose  running  title, 
because  the  author  does  not  formally  announce  a 
proj^osition  in  the  discourse.  It  contains  one,  how- 
ever ;    and,  put  into   a  distinct   verbal  statement, 


186  HOMLLETICS. 

would  be  this :  "  Revealed  religion  is  infinitely 
superior  to  natural  religion."  This  proj^osition 
really  pervades  the  whole  sermon,  and  is  established, 
by  showing  that  revelation  imparts  a  knowledge 
infinitely  superior  to  that  given  by  natural  religion, 
in  respect,  1.  to  the  nature  and  attributes  of  God;  2. 
to  the  nature  and  oblisrations  of  man :  3.  to  the 
means  of  appeasing  the  remorse  of  conscience ;  and, 
4.  to  a  future  state. 

It  is  better  to  vary  the  structure  of  sermons, 
by  adopting  both  modes,  so  far  as  the  projDosition 
is  concerned.  Invariably  to  state  the  proposition, 
though  not  so  objectionable  as  invariably  to  leave 
it  unannounced,  imparts  an  air  of  stiffness,  and 
formality,  to  sermonizing  from  Sabbath  to  Sabbath. 
Whenever,  however,  the  proposition  is  not  verbally 
stated,  the  treatment  of  the  subject  ought  to  be 
of  such  a  character,  as  to  leave  no  doubt  in  the 
mind  of  the  hearer,  respecting  the  real  and  positive 
doctrine  of  the  sermon.  The  body  of  the  discourse 
should  be  made  up  of  such  clear  and  evident 
matter,  that  when  the  hearer  asks  himself  the  ques- 
tion :  "  What  is  the  proposition  of  this  sermon  ?" 
the  answer  is  suggested  by  its  trains  of  thought, 
and  the  generab  bearing  of  it  as  a  whole.  If,  there- 
fore, a  sermon  contains  no  outward  and  formally 
announced  proposition,  it  should  contain  an  inward 
and  organic  one,  all  the  more  ;  and  the  whole  mass 
of  its  argumentative,  and  illustrative,  matter,  should 
have  even  a  plainer  reference,  and  a  stronger  drift 


PLAN   OF  A   BERMOX.  187 

iu  oue  general  direction,  tLan  when  the  proposition 
Las  been  verbally  enunciated  in  the  beginning. 

3.  The  Proof  is  the  substance  of  the  sermon. 
It  is  the  most  important  part  of  the  discourse, 
because  it  is  that  part,  for  the  sake  of  which  the 
discourse  itself  is  composed.  The  introduction, 
the  statement  of  the  proposition,  and  the  conclu- 
sion, exist  only  in  order  to  the  demonstration. 
Separated  from  that  argumentative  part  of  the  ser- 
mon, which  establishes  some  truth,  and  produces 
conviction,  these  other  parts  are  worthless.  A  logic- 
al development  of  an  idea,  or  a  convincing  demon- 
stration of  a  doctrine,  always  possesses  an  intrinsic 
worth.  When  we  can  read  or  hear  but  one  part  of 
a  sermon,  we  always  select  the  body  of  it,  as  it  is 
termed. 

The  proof  divides  into  parts,  which  are  some- 
times denominated  "  heads,"  and  sometimes  "  divis- 
ions." These  divisions  should  exhibit  the  followinc: 
qualities.  First,  they  must  possess  a  true  logical 
force.  By  this  is  meant,  that  they  must  one  and 
all  go  to  establish  the  proposition.  It  is  not  enough, 
that  they  bear  some  affinity  to  the  theme  of  the 
discourse ;  that  they  are  not  heterogeneous.  They 
must  be  of  the  nature  of  demonstration,  and  caiTy 
conviction,  as  far  as  they  extend,  to  the  hearer's 
mind.  At  the  conclusion  of  each  head  or  division 
of  proof,  the  auditor  should  feel  that  the  proposi- 
tion has  received  an  additional,  and  real  support. 
Secondly,  each  head  of  the  j^roof  ought  to  exhibit 


188  nOMILETICS. 

a  distinctive  cliaracter  by  itself.  ^By  this  is  meant, 
that  it  should  not  contain  elements  of  proof  that 
are  found  in  other  divisions.  It  must  not  be  a 
mere  modification  of  some  other  head,  but  a  dis- 
tinct, and  additional,  item  in  the  mass  of  argument. 
Hence,  none  but  the  leading  arguments  should 
appear  in  the  sermon,  for  the  support  of  a  proposi- 
tion. There  is  no  time  in  the  oration  for  the 
numerous  exhaustive  demonstrations  of  philosophy, 
and  in  reality  no  need  of  them.  The  preacher 
should  seize  upon  the  few  prime  arguments,  and 
exhibit  to  the  popular  audience  only  the  capital 
proofs. 

A  close  attention  to  these  two  fundamental 
properties,  in  the  heads  of  proof,  is  indispensable 
to  good  sermonizing.  If  a  particular  argument,  in 
support  of  a  proposition,  is  not  genuinely  demon- 
strative, and  distinctively  demonstrative,  it  should 
not  constitute  a  part  of  the  proof.  All  arguments 
that  do  not,  so  far  as  they  reach  and  relate,  really 
evince,  and  afford  new  elements  of  conviction, 
ought  to  be  energetically  rejected. 

The  observance  of  these  maxims  will  secure  a 
proper  number  of  heads.  If  every  thing  of  the 
nature  of  proof  is  employed,  without  regard  to  the 
intrinsic  worth  and  strength  of  it,  the  divisions  will 
be  too  numerous  for  the  nature  of  oratory.  ''  Some 
ministers,"  says  an  old  homiletist,  "  do  with  their 
texts,  as  the  Levite  with  his  concubine, — cut,  and 
carve  it  into  so  many  several  pieces."     Some  ser- 


PLAN   OF   A   SERMON.  189 

mens  exhibit  a  body  of  proof  ^vliicb,  owing  to  the 
multitude  of  the  divisions  and  sub-divisions,  is 
wholly  unsuited  to  the  purposes  of  persuasive  dis- 
course. They  are  good  illustrations  of  the  infinite 
divisibility  of  matter,  but  produce  no  conviction  in 
the  popular  mind,  because  they  employ  the  philo- 
sophical, instead  of  the  rhetorical  mode  of  demon- 
stration. This  fault  will  be  avoided,  if  the  sermon- 
izer  ashs,  in  respect  to  each  and  every  head  or  divis- 
ion :  "  Does  this  proposed  head  really  tend  to  prove 
the  proposition,  and  does  it  aftbrd  a  positively  new 
item  of  proof,  that  is  not  contained  in  any  other 
head  ?"  These  two  questions,  rigorously  applied, 
"\^-ill  exclude  from  the  sermon  all  second-rate  aro-u- 
ments,  and  the  pulpit  will  bring  to  bear  upon  the 
poj^ular  audience,  only  the  strongest,  plainest,  and 
most  cogent  proofs.  By  this,  it  is  not  meant,  that 
a  division  of  the  proof  may  not  exhibit  another 
phase  of  one  and  the  same  general  argument. 
There  may  be  but  one  general  argument,  in  suj^port 
of  a  ^proposition,  and  then  the  new  element  of 
proof,  in  the  new  division,  must  be  simply  a  new 
aspect  of  this.  But  in  this  case,  also,  the  spirit 
of  the  above-given  maxim  must  be  obeyed. 
The  new  head,  or  division,  should  exhibit  a  new 
aspect,  so  distinct  and  diverse  from  that  of  all  pre- 
ceding or  following  heads,  as  to  impart  a  marked, 
and  distini:ruishin<]:  lo2:ical  character  to  it. 

In  respect  to  the  number  of  heads,  or  divisions, 
in  the  j^roof,  no  stiff  rule  can  be  laid  down.     Some 


1 90  nOMTLETICS. 

rhetoricians  say  that  tliey  should  never  exceed  five. 
Probably,  the  majority  of  modern  sermons  contain 
less  than  this  number,  and  the  majority  of  ancient 
sermons  contain  more.  It  is  better  to  amplify  one 
first-rate  argument,  than  to  present  two  mediocre 
ones,  in  the  same  S23ace.  It  is  more  difficult  to  do 
this,  because  it  requires  closer  and  more  continuous 
reflection ;  but  the  sermon  is  the  more  excellent  for 
it.  When  a  rich  and  fertile  argument  has  been 
discovered,  the  preacher  should  not  leave  it,  until 
he  has  made  the  common  mind  feel  the  whole  sum 
of  its  force.  The  instant  he  has  done  this,  he 
should  drop  it.  It  is  not  enough  to  barely  state  a 
proof.  It  should  be  fully  unfolded.  It  should  be 
revolved  in  the  preacher's  mind,  and  before  the 
hearer's  mind,  until  all  that  is  latent  in  it  has  been 
elicited.  The  maxim,  then,  in  respect  to  the  num- 
ber of  heads  or  divisions  is,  "  Amplify,  rather  than 
multiply."  The  effect  of  this  maxim  will  coincide 
with  what  has  been  said,  respecting  the  choice  of 
arguments.  The  preacher,  we  have  seen,  is  to 
choose  genuinely  demonstrative,  and  distinctively 
demonstrative  proofs ;  and  these  are  the  only  ones 
that  can  be  amplified,  and  cannot  be  multij^lied. 
Fertile  arguments  are  few  in  number,  but  may  be 
made  to  cover  a  wide  extent  of  surface,  and  furnish 
a  great  amount  of  matter,  for  the  body  of  the  ser- 
mon. 

These  same  maxims  will  apply  to  the  sub-divis- 
ions of  proof.     These,  also,  must  possess  a  real,  and 


PLAN   OF  A  SERMON-.  191 

distinct  demonstrative  power.  They  should  not 
repeat  each  other,  in  any  degree.  The  choice  and 
number  of  the  sub-divisions,  must,  therefore,  be 
detminered  by  the  same  rules  that  apply  to  the 
principal  divisions.  As  a  general  tiling,  sub-divis- 
ions need  not  be  formally  announced.  They  should 
be  so  forcible,  and  marked,  in  tlieir  cliaractcr,  as  to 
announce  themselves.  Generally  speaking,  a  subdi- 
vision that  would  not  attract  the  attention  of  a  liearer, 
by  its  own  weight  and  worth,  should  be  omitted. 

In  announcinoc  the  divisions  and  subdivisions  of 
the  proof,  the  greatest  pains  should  be  taken  with 
the  phraseology.  Each  one  ought  to  be  expressed 
in  the  most  exact,  and  concise  language.  The  same 
care  which  we  recommended  in  wording  the  propo- 
sition, should  be  exj^ended  upon  the  wording  of  its 
proofs.  These  are  themselves  a  species  of  proposi- 
tion, and  by  the  old  sermonizers  are  so  denominated. 
The  elder  Edwards  frequently  announces  a  gen- 
eral proposition,  under  the  name  of  "doctrine," 
and  follows  with  "  proposition  first,"  "  proposition 
second,"  etc.,  as  the  arguments  that  support  it.^ 

It  sometimes  happens,  that  the  matter  in  the 
proof  is  excellent,  being  both  truly  and  distinctively 
demonstrative,  but  the  style  of  expression  is  exceed- 
ingly defective.  As  an  example  of  a  loose  and 
slovenly  manner  of  wording  the  divisions,  and  sub- 
divisions, of  the  .proof,  take  the  following  from  John 

'  Compare  Sermon  upon  1  Thess.  ii.  IG.  Works,  IV.  281  sq. 


192  HOIMILETICS. 

Howe,  a  preacher,  wlio,  in  respect  to  thought  and 
matter,  has  no  su^Dcrior  in  the  Ancient  or  the  Mod- 
ern Church,  "but  is  excelled  in  respect  to  form  and 
style,  by  many  of  inferior  discij^line,  learning,  and 
spirituality. 

In  the  forty-second  of  his  Sermons,  he  describes 
the  nature  of  the  new  birth.^  The  divisions  of  the 
discussion  are  worded  thus  :  "  1.  As  it  is  a  birth,  it 
signifies  a  real  new  product  in  the  soul ;  that  there 
is  somewhat  really  produced  anew  in  it.  2.  As 
this  is  a  real  production  to  be  thus  born,  new  born, 
so  it  is  a  spiritual  production,  in  contradistinction 
to  such  productions  as  lie  within  the  sphere  of  na- 
ture. 3.  As  this  is  a  birth,  so  we  must  consider  it 
to  be  a  total  production,  such  an  one  as  carries  an 
entireness  with  it ;  for  so  it  is  with  all  such  produc- 
tions that  are  properly  called  births.  4.  This  birth, 
as  it  is  a  birth,  signifies  a  permanent  production ; 
an  effect  that  is  permanent,  lasting,  and  continued." 

Instead  of  this  loose,  incompact  phraseology, 
these  divisions  would  be  more  forcibly  stated,  and 
easily  remembered,  in  the  following  form :  To  be 
born  of  God,  (The  text  is,  "  Whosoever  believeth 
that  Jesus  is  the  Christ,  is  born  of  God)  denotes :  1. 
A  real  true  birth.  2.  A  supernatural,  or  spiritual 
birth.    3.  A  permanent  birth.^    The  awkwardness 

'  Jonx  Howe  :  "Works,  11.  894  tually  included  in  tlio  first,  and 

sq.  'New  York  Ed.  therefore  should  be  omitted  iQ  a 

■  The  third  head,  in   Howe's  truly  rhetorical  plan, 
distribution  of  the  matter,  is  vir- 


PLAN    OF   A   SEEMON.  193 

of  the  statement,  in  tliis  instance,  arises  from  not 
cleanly  separating  tlie  Lead,  or  division,  from  the 
matter  under  it,  and  from  attempting*  some  explanci" 
Hon  or  development  of  the  head  in  the  head  itself 
This  should  never  be  done.  The  preacher  must  re- 
serve the  unfolding  for  its  proper  place.  He  should 
do  one  thing  at  a  time.  When  he  announces  either  a 
proposition  or  a  division,  let  it  be  a  pure  and  simple 
annunciation,  in  the  concisest,  clearest,  and  briefest 
phraseology.  And  when  he  unfolds,  or  developes,  let 
him  do  this  fully  and  exhaustively.  Milton  speaks 
of  the  close  palm  of  logic,  and  the  open  palm  of 
rhetoric.  Now,  the  statement  of  a  proposition,  or  of 
a  head,  is  logical  in  its  nature ;  it  should  be  the  hard, 
knotty  fist.  The  explanation,  or  development  of  a 
proposition,  or  of  a  head,  is  rhetorical  in  its  nature ; 
it  should  be  the  open,  amj^le  hand.  To  attempt 
to  unite  the  two  in  one  sentence,  is  like  attempting 
to  open  and  shut  the  hand  by  a  single  volition,  and 
by  one  set  of  muscles.  The  hand  cannot  be  shut  by 
the  muscles  that  ^vere  made  to  open  it.  The  state- 
ment of  a  proposition,  or  of  a  division  of  proof,  can- 
not be  the  development  and  amplification  of  it. 

Thus  far,  we  have  spoken  of  the  body  of  the  ser- 
mon, under  the  denomination  of  the  proof.  When 
discussing  the  nature  of  the  proposition,  we  alluded 
to  a  class  of  sermons,  called  by  some  homiletists 
subject-sermons,  which  contain  no  formally  an- 
nounced proposition,  although  they  contain  an  in- 
ternal and  implied  one,  and  are,  therefore,  truly 
13 


194  H03IILETICS. 

toi^icfil  in  their  nature.  It  is  obvious,  tliat  wlien 
the  proposition  is  thus  inlaid,  and  implied,  through 
the  discourse  as  a  whole,  the  proof  takes  on  a  differ- 
ent aj^pearance,  from  that  which  it  wears  in  a  more 
formally  constructed  sermon.  Sometimes,  there  are 
no  distinctly  announced  heads.  The  preacher,  from 
the  raj)idity  of  his  movement,  cannot  stop  to  enu- 
merate, but  supplies  the  lack  of  formality  of  state- 
ment by  emphasizing  leading  words  or  clauses.  In 
this  case,  there  are  subdivisions  really,  though  not 
formally.  Every  sermon  must  contain  subordinate 
thoughts,  which  flow  out  of  each  other,  and  yet  are 
distinct  from  each  other.  Otherwise  there  is  no 
development,  no  constant  j^rogress,  and  none  of  the 
elements  of  oratory. 

When  the  body  of  the  sermon  is  of  this  informal 
character,  it  is  termed  by  some  writers  the  treatment^ 
by  others  the  discussion.  These  terms  are  employed, 
not  to  denote  that  there  is  nothing  of  the  nature  of 
logic,  or  proof,  in  the  body  of  the  discourse,  but  that 
the  logic,  or  proof,  is  less  formal,  and  less  formally 
announced,  than  in  the  other  instance.  The  quali- 
ties which  should  characterize  the  discussion,  or 
treatment,  of  a  theme,  are  substantially  like  those  of 
the  proof  proper.  There  must  be  the  same  accumu- 
lation of  genuinely  demonstrative  material.  As  this 
less  formal  development  of  the  theme  goes  on,  it 
should  acquire  additional  logical  force,  and  produce 
a  growing  conviction  in  the  understanding  of  the 
hearer. 


PLAIT   OF   A    SEEMOX.  195 

In  concluding  tliis  account  of  tlie  proof,  tlie 
question  arises,  wbetlier  all  the  Leads  or  divisions 
sliould  be  pre-announced,  by  the  preacher,  at  the 
opening  of  his  discourse.  The  decision  of  this 
question  does  not  affect  the  structure  of  the  dis- 
course itself,  because  this  pre-announcement  is  not 
the  addition  of  any  new  matter,  but  simply  the 
repetition  of  the  existing.  Without  laying  down  a 
stiff,  undeviating  rule,  we  are  inclined  to  say,  that 
recapitulation  is  better  than  pre-announcement. 
And  this,  for  the  following  reasons.  First,  the 
recapitulation  of  the  proofs,  at  the  close  of  the 
argumentation,  is  more  intelligihle  than  the  j)re- 
anuouncement  of  them  at  the  beo-inniuo-.  After 
the  mind  of  the  hearer  has  followed  the  preacher 
through  his  proofs,  and  has  listened  to  their  develop- 
ment, one  by  one,  it  sees  their  meaning,  and 
interconnection,  much  more  readily  and  easily. 
The  full  import,  and  connection,  of  an  argument, 
cannot  be  perceived,  until  it  has  been  unfolded  in 
its  relations,  and  dependencies.  Secondly,  the  re- 
capitulation of  the  proofs  is  more  impressive  than 
the  pre-announcement  of  them.  The  accurate  and 
\vi^v\  repetition  of  the  arguments  of  a  sermon,  after 
they  have  been  clearly  and  connectedly  exhibited, 
makes  a  very  strong  impression  upon  the  hearer. 
It  is  a  summing  up  of  the  demonstration,  a  group- 
ing and  epitomizing  of  the  entire  logic  of  the 
discoui'se,  which  falls  with  massive,  solid  weight 
upon   his    understanding.     This    epitome    of    the 


196  nOMILETICS. 

proof,  I'eacl  off  to  tlie  audience  before  they  have 
l)eeome  interested  in  its  contents  by  a  course  of 
arcumentation,  leaves  the  mind  indifferent.  It  is 
like  perusing  the  table  of  contents  of  a  book,  before 
reading  the  book  itself  Lastly,  the  recapitulation  of 
the  proof  is  more  easily  remeivhered  than  the  pre- 
annoimcement  of  it,  for  the  reason  that  it  is  more 
intelligible,  and  more  im2:)ressive.  That  which  is 
most  clearly  understood,  and  most  forcible  and 
striking,  is  most  easily  retained  in  the  memory.^ 

4.  The  Conclusion  is  that  part  of  the  sermon 
which  Vigorously  applies  the  truth,  which  has  been 
established  in  the  proof,  or  developed  in  the 
treatment,  or  discussion.  As  the  introduction  is 
conciliatory  and  explanatory,  the  conclusion  is  ap2:>li- 
catory  and  hortatory.  It  should,  therefore,  be 
characterized  by  the  utmost  intensity,  and  energy. 
The  highest  vitality  of  the  oration  shows  itself  in 
the  peroration.  The  onset  uj)on  the  hearer  is  at 
this  point.     If  the  man's  will  ^s  ever  carried,  if 

*  "Our  main  work  is  to  be  their  duty,  which  are  the   sum 

the  people's  remembrancers,  to  be  and  abstract   of  what  we  have 

constant    monitors    to    them   of  delivered.     We  should  endeavor 

their  duty,  to  bring  the  contents  to  refresh   their  memories,  con- 

of  it  close  up  to  their  minds,  and  sideringthat  the  preaching  of  the 

to  fasten  them  upon  them.     To  word  was  not  instituted,  only  to 

which  end,  it  may  be  sometimes  inform  men  of  what  they  were 

requisite,  in  the  close  of  our  dis-  ignorant  of  before,  but  to  remind 

courses,  to  recapitulate  the  most  them  of  wliat    they  knew  well 

important  heads  and  particulars  enougli,  but  had  forgot."     John 

we  have   been  treating  of,  that  Edwards  :    The  Preacher,  Pt.  I. 

our  auditors  may  carry  away  with  p.  281. 
them  tliose   brief  memorials   of 


PLAl^-   OF    A    SEKilOX  197 

tliis  true  effect  of  eloquence  is  ever  produced,  it  is 
tlie  work  of  this  part  of  the  sermon.  By  this,  it  is 
not  meant  that  the  other  parts  of  the  discourse 
may  not  be  excellent,  and  produce  some  of  their 
proper  effects,  even  though  the  conclusion  be  im- 
perfect. But  the  crown  and  completion  of  the 
whole  oratorical  j^rocess,  the  actual  persuasion  of  the 
auditor,  Avill  not  ensue,  if  the  conclusion  is  lame, 
and  not  equal  to  the  preceding  parts.  It  must  be 
a  true  conclusion ;  a  vehement  and  powerful  wind- 
ing up,  and  finishing.  Hence,  among  the  Ancients, 
the  peroration  received  the  utmost  attention.  The 
conclusions  of  the  orations  of  Demosthenes,  and 
Cicero,  are  constructed  in  the  most  elaborate 
manner,  in  order  that  there  may  be  no  falling  off 
from  the  impression  made  by  the  preceding  por- 
tions. At  this  point  in  the  process  of  the  orator, 
they  seem  to  have  exerted  their  utmost  j)ossibility 
of  effort,  like  a  leaper,  who  throws  his  whole  brute 
force  into  that  one  leap  which  is  to  save  his  life 
from  destruction.  Indeed,  the  peroration  seems 
to  23ut  the  power  to  spring  and  smite,  the  very 
tendon  of  Achilles,  into  oratory. 

In  sacred  eloquence,  there  are  two  species  of 
conclusions ;  while,  in  secular  eloquence,  tliere 
is,  strictly  sj^eaking,  but  one.  The  sermon  may 
conclude,  either  by  inferences^  or  by  direct  address. 
The  secular  oration  employs  the  latter  only.  This 
difference  arises  from  the  fact  mentioned  in  the 
chapter  upon  the  distinctive  nature  of  Ilomiletics, 


198  HOJIILETICS. 

namely,  tliat  sacred  eloquence  is  more  didactic  than 
secular,  and  hence  may  vary  more  from  tlie  strict 
canons  of  oratory,  if  it  can  thereby  produce  a 
greater  practical  impression. 

The  sermon  should  have  an  inferential  conclu- 
sion, when  the  principal  practical  force  of  the  pro- 
position, or  the  subject,  is  in  the  inferences  from  it. 
The  real  strength  of  some  conceptions  lies  in  that 
which  follows  from  them.  They  make  no  very 
great  moral  impression  of  themselves,  but  they 
involve,  or  they  imj^ly,  or  they  point  to,  certain 
truths  that  are  highly  important,  and  serious. 
Death,  for  example,  is  a  theme  that  is  much  more 
solemn,  and  effective,  in  its  inferences,  and  its  impli- 
cations, than  in  itself.  It  is,  indeed,  fearful  in  itself, 
but  it  is  the  king  of  terrors,  only  through  its 
concomitants,  and  consequents.  The  doctrine  of 
the  soul's  immortality,  again,  is  one  that  makes  its 
strongest  impression  by  virtue  of  its  inferences,  and 
deductions.  The  mere  fact  that  the  sonl  is  to  live 
forever,  exerts  but  little  influence  upon  a  man, 
until  he  has  been  made  to  see,  that  he  is  utterly 
unfit  and  unprepared  for  such  an  endless  existence ; 
until  the  doctrines  of  sin  and  guilt,  of  justice  and 
judgment,  have  sharpened  and  enforced  the  doctrine 
of  immortality. 

Secondly,  the  sermon  should  have  an  inferential 
conclusion,  when  the  proposition  and  its  proof,  or 
the  subject  and  its  discussion,  are  highly  abstract  in 
their  nature.     There  are  some  doctrines  presented  in 


PLAN   OF   A    SEEMON.  199 

the  Scriptures,  so  recondite  and  metaphysical  that 
they  can  be  made  to  bear  upon  the  popular  mind, 
only  in  their  concrete  and  practical  aspects.  Inas- 
much as  they  are  revealed  truth,  they  must  not  be 
passed  over,  by  the  preacher.  All  Scripture  is  profit- 
able. Yet  they  are  metaphysical  in  their  nature,  and 
in  their  ultimate  reach  transcend  the  powers  of  the 
finite  intellect.  The  preacher,  therefore,  must  detect 
a  popular  element  in  them,  that  will  make  them 
proper  themes  for  eloquence.  lie  must  discover 
in  them,  a  practical  quality,  which  will  luring  them 
home  to  the  business,  and  bosoms  of  Christians. 

In  order  to  this,  the  sacred  orator  must  follow  the 
method  of  Scripture  itself.  He  is  to  content  himself 
with  a  brief  and  succinct  statement,  which  omits  noth' 
iug  essential  to  the  doctrine,  but  which  does  not  pre- 
tend to  fully  develoj^e  and  explain  it,  and,  from  this, 
di'aw  inferences  and  conclusions  respecting  the 
duties  of  his  hearers.  In  this  way,  the  high  funda- 
mental dogma  is  brought  down  into  the  sphere  of 
human  conduct,  and  n:iade  a  practical  test  of  char- 
acter. It  is  not  fully  explained,  it  is  true,  because 
it  cannot  be  by  a  finite  mind ;  but  it  is  correctly, 
that  is  scripturally,  stated.  This  accurate  enuncia- 
tion of  the  truth,  or  doctrine,  prepares  the  way  for 
the  inferences, — for  that  handling  of  it,  which 
brin2;s  it  into  living:  contact  with  the  affections  and 
will  of  the  hearer.  In  this  way,  the  most  abstract, 
and  intrinsically  metaphysical  doctrine  of  Scripture 
becomes  eloquent,  that  is,  persuasive,  and  influentia] 


200  HOMELETICS. 

upon  tlie  human  mind  and  lieart.  The  revealed 
dogma  of  the  trinity  is  an  example.  This  is, 
undoubtedly,  the  most  profound  truth  that  has 
been  j^i'esented  to  the  human  intelligence.  Neither 
in  Ancient  nor  in  Modern  philosophy,  is  there  any 
doctrine  that  carries  the  mind  down  to  such  central 
depths.  A  perfect  comj^rehension  of  this  single 
truth,  such  as  is  possessed  by  the  Divine  intelli- 
gence, would  involve  a  comprehension  of  all  truth, 
and  would  solve  at  once,  and  forever,  those  standing 
problems  of  the  human  mind  which  have  both  stimu- 
lated and  baffled  its  inquiries,  ever  since  the  dawn 
of  philosophic  speculation.  And  yet,  this  transcen- 
dental truth  is  a  Biblical  truth,  and  must  be 
preached  to  plain  Christian  men  and  women.  A 
discourse  upon  the  doctrine  of  the  trinity,  there- 
fore, should  be  strong  in  its  inferences,  rather  than 
in  its  explanations,  or  developments.  The  relation, 
for  example,  which  the  three  distinct  Persons  in  the 
Godhead  sustain  to  the  believer,  should  be  insisted 
upon.  The  peculiar  feelings  which  he  ought  to 
cherish  toward  the  Father,  the  Son,  and  the  Holy 
Ghost,  should  be  inferred  from  the  distinctive  char- 
acter, and  office,  of  each.  The  duty  of  an  equal 
adoration  and  worship,  in  respect  to  each  Person, 
the  part  which  each  performs  in  the  work  of  human 
redemption, — such  practical  and  edifying  discussion 
as  this  must  enter  largely  into  a  sermon  upon  the 
trinity,  instead  of  a  strictly  metaphysical  discussion 
of  the  doctrine.     But  such  matter  as  this  is  inferen- 


PLAN   OF    A.   SEEMON.  201 

tial,  and  slioiild  constitute  tlie  foundation  of  an 
address  to  the  affections  and  will  of  the  hearer. 
And  it  falls  most  properly  into  the  conclusion, 
because  it  presupposes  the  statement  and  proof  of 
the  doctrine  itself. 

In  respect   to   the  character  of  the  inferences 
themselves,  they  should  possess  the  following  prop- 
erties.    First,  they  must  be  legitimate.     They  must 
originate  from  the  very  heart,  and  substance,  of  the 
proposition  or  doctrine.     Inferences  should  not  be 
drawn  from  the  accidental,  or  incidental,  parts  of 
a  subject,  but  from  its  essentials,  alone.     Then,  they 
are  lawful  inferences,  and  have  the  support  of  the 
whole  fundamental  truth,  from  which  they  spring. 
There  is  nothing  to  be  subtracted  from  them.     ]^o 
allowance  is  to  be  made.     They  are  entitled  to  their 
full  weight.     The  hearer  feels  their  legitimacy,  and 
he  cannot  escape  their  force  except  by  denying  the 
proposition,  or  doctrine,  of  which  they  are  the  inevi- 
table consequences.      Secondly,  inferences  must  be 
Tiomogeneou-s:     They  must  all  be  of  the  same  kind. 
A  conflict  in  the  inferences  from  a  truth  destroys 
their  influence  upon  the  mind  of  the  hearer,  and  a 
direct     contrariety     absolutely    annihilates    them. 
Hence,  the  utmost  agreement,  and  harmony,  should 
appear  in  the  practical  inferential  matter  of  a  sermon. 
And  this  Avill  be  the  case,  provided  they  each,  and 
all,  possess  the  property  of  legitimacy.     For  truth 
is   always  self-consistent.      It  ahvays   agrees  w^ith 
itself.     Hence,   all   matter   that  is   really   derived 


202  HOMILETICS. 

from  the  very  substance,  and  pitli,  of  a  fundamental 
trutb,  is  homogeneous  and  harmonious.  Nothing 
is  then  drawn  out,  that  was  not  first  inLaid.  Thu'dly, 
inferences  must  be  intensely  practical.  The  yqyj 
purpose  in  employing  them,  as  we  have  seen,  is  to 
popularize  the  abstract,  to  bring  an  intrinsically 
abstruse  doctrine,  or  proposition,  into  warm  and 
vital  contact  with  the  common  mind  and  heart. 
Hence,  inferences  should  be  entirely  free  from  a 
theoretic  aspect,  and  from  abstract  elements.  Neither 
is  it  enough,  that  they  be  practical  in  the  moderate 
sense  of  the  word.  They  should  be  intensely 
practical.  By  this  is  meant,  that  their  address  and 
appeal  should  be  solely  and  entirely,  to  the  most 
moral,  earnest,  and  living  part  of  man's  nature, — 
that  is,  to  his  affections  and  will.  The  intellectual 
nature,  by  the  suj^position,  has  been  addressed  ])y 
the  proposition,  and  the  proof;  and  now  it  only 
remains,  to  press  the  doctrine  home  upon  the 
conscience  and  feelings,  in  the  most  vivid  and  vital 
manner  possible.  This  is  done  by  legitimate  and 
homogeneous  inferences,  coming  directly,  and  inevi- 
tably, from  the  core  of  the  subject,  and  containing 
its  concentrated  practical  substance.  Lastly,  infe- 
rences must  be  cumulative.  They  should  heap  upon 
each  other.  Each  succeeding  one  should  not  only 
be  an  addition  to  the  preceding,  but  an  advance 
upon  it.  The  strongest  inference  should  be  the 
last  inference.  Unless  this  rule  is  o])served,  it  is 
impossible  to  construct  an  excellent  inferential  con- 


PLA^   OF    A   SEEMON.  203 

elusion.  As  we  Lave  previously  seen,  tne  perora- 
tiou  ought  to  be  tlie  most  vivid,  and  impressive 
part  of  the  sermon.  But  it  cannot  be,  if  the  matter 
of  vrhich  it  is  composed  is  all  of  equal  value,  and 
there  is  no  progress.  The  peroration  should  be 
distinguished  by  vehemence,  by  the  utmost  intensity, 
energy,  vividness,  and  motion.  When,  therefore, 
it  consists  of  inferences,  these  should  be  of  such  a 
nature,  and  so  arranged,  as  to  press  with  more  and 
more  weight,  to  kindle  with  hotter  and  hotter  heat, 
to  enlicjhten  with  strono-er  and  strons^er  liirht,  to 
enliven  with  intenser  and  intenser  life,  and  to  move 
with  a  more  and  more  irresistible  force. 

Constructed  in  this  manner,  the  conclusion  of  a 
sermon  may  be  in  the  highest  degree  eloquent,  even 
although  an  inferential  conclusion,  as  we  have  re- 
marked, is  not  so  strictly  oratorical  as  the  direct 
address.  For  this  practical  property  in  inferences, 
this  intense  vitality  of  the  material,  this  constant 
progress  in  the  arrangement,  is  the  essential  ele- 
ment in  eloquence.  Where  these  are,  there  is  elo- 
quence; and  we  see  not  why  the  preacher  may  not 
make  an  onset  upon  the  heart  and  will,  through 
inferences,  that  will  be  as  vehement  and  successful, 
as  that  which  is  made  l)y  a  more  regularly  con- 
structed peroration.  At  any  rate,  in  the  instance 
of  such  subjects  as  those  which  we  have  specified, 
and  having  a  proposition  whose  main  practical 
force  lies  in  its  implications,  or  one  which  is  highly 
abstract  in  its  owe  nature,  he  has  no  choice  left  him 


204  nOMELETICS. 

He  mast  either  pass  by  sucli  subjects  altogetlier,  or 
else  liaudle  tliem  in  the  manner  we  have  described. 
But,  he  has  no  right  to  omit  any  truth  of  Scripture, 
in  his  sermonizing.  He  is  obligated  to  employ  even 
the  most  profound  and  metaphysical  doctrines  of 
Eevelation,  for  homiletic  purposes,  and  must,  there- 
fore, treat  them  in  the  most  concrete,  popular,  and 
eloquent  manner  possible,  by  dealing  with  their 
implications,  and  inferences. 

The  sermon  may,  also,  conclude  with  what  wc 
have  termed  the  direct  address.  This  is  more 
strictly  oratorical  in  its  nature,  than  the  inferential 
conclusion.  It  does  not,  like  this  latter,  contribute 
to  a  further  development  of  the  subject  of  the 
discourse,  while  it  is  applying  it  to  the  hearer,  but 
is  simply  and  solely  applicatory.  The  inference,  as 
we  have  seen,  is  somewhat  didactic.  It  imparts 
some  further  information,  in  respect  to  the  theme  of 
the  discourse,  while  it  addresses  the  aifections  and 
will.  It  is  not  so  with  the  direct  address,  or  the 
strictly  oratorical  peroration.  This  supposes  that 
the  proposition  and  its  proof,  or  the  theme  and  its 
treatment,  have  exhausted  the  subject,  in  both  its 
theoretic  and  practical  aspects;  and  in  this  case, 
nothing  remains  but  to  apply  it.  As  a  consequence, 
this  species  of  conclusion  is  much  briefer  than  that 
by  inferences.  It  ought  not  to  be  at  all  didactic. 
It  should  be  purely  oratorical,  and  highly  hortatory. 
But  such  a  species  of  discourse  cannot  continue 
long,  and  perhaps  the  art  of  the  orator  is  nowhere 


PLAK   OF  A  SEEMON.  205 

more  visible,  than  in  the  skill  with  which,  in  the 
conclusion,  he  presses  his  theme  upon  the  affections 
and  will  of  the  hearer.  If  this  vehemence  is  too 
prolonged,  it  defeats  itself.  If  this  exhortation 
goes  beyond  the  proper  limits,  it  not  only  fatigues, 
but  disgusts,  the  mind  of  the  auditor.  No  preach- 
ers are  more  wearisome,  than  those  who  are  styled 
hortatory  preachers.  Their  direct  address  is  un- 
supported by  doctrine.  Their  whole  oration  is 
peroration.  They  omit  the  proposition  and  the 
proof,  in  their  plan.  It  is  safer  to  overdo  the 
address  to  the  understanding,  than  the  address  to 
the  feelings.  The  understanding  is  a  cool  and 
sensible  faculty,  and  good  sense  never  tires  or 
disgusts  it.  But  the  feelings  are  both  shy,  and 
excitable.  Addressed  too  boisterously,  they  make 
their  retreat.  Addressed  too  continually,  they  lose 
their  tone  and  sensibility,  altogether. 

The  direct  address  to  the  hearer  should  be  cha- 
racterized by  the  following  qualities.  First,  it  must 
be  appropriate.  By  this  is  meant,  that  the  conclu- 
sion should  enforce  the  one  proposition,  or  the  one 
lesson,  of  the  sermon.  Every  part,  and  particle,  of 
the  peroration  should  be  pertinent  to  the  discourse 
as  a  whole.  And  this  implies,  secondly,  that  the 
conclusion  by  direct  address  be  single.  It  cannot 
Tje  appropriate,  unless  it  is  characterized  by  unity. 
Whatever  the  doctrine  of  the  sermon  may  be,  the 
conclusion  must  apply  this,  and  this  only.  Says 
that  eccentric  preacher,  Eowlaud  Hill :  "  The  gos- 


206  HOSITLETICS. 

pel  is  an  excellent  milch  cow,  which  always  gives 
plenty  of  milk,  and  of  the  best  quality.  1  first 
pnll  at  sanctification,  then  give  a  plug  at  adoption, 
and  afterwards  a  teat  at  sanctification ;  and  so  on, 
until  I  have  filled  my  pail  with  gospel  milk."  No^v, 
if  the  body  of  the  sermon  has  been  constructed 
upon  this  plan,  then  an  appropriate  conclusion 
would  not  be  one  and  single,  in  its  character.  A 
peroration  pertinent  to  such  a  discourse  would  be 
double  and  twisted.  But  we  have  seen,  that  every 
sermon  ought  to  be  characterized  by  the  utmost 
unity ;  that  it  should  approximate  to  the  topical 
form,  even  w^hen  it  does  not  employ  it,  and  should 
always  approach  as  nearly  as  possible  to  the  ora- 
tion, by  containing  but  one  proposition,  or  develop- 
ing but  one  general  truth.  Hence,  the  conclusion  of 
the  sermon  is  appropriate,  only  as  it  is  single  and 
incomplex,  in  its  structure  and  sj^irit.  It  matters 
not  what  the  proposition  or  subject  may  have  been, 
let  the  direct  concludinsj  address  be  in  entire  har- 
mony  with  it.  Some  homiletists  lay  down  the 
rule:  " Always  conclude  w^ith  the  gospel;  always 
end  with  the  hopes  and  promises."  This,  we  think, 
is  a  false  rule,  both  rhetorically  and  morally.  If 
the  law  has  been  preached,  then  let  the  conclusion 
be  legal,  damnatory,  terrible.  If  the  gospel  has 
been  preached,  let  the  conclusion  be  winning, 
encouraging,  and  hopeful.  Then  the  sermon  is  a 
homogeneous  composition,  developing  one  theme, 
and    making    a    single    impression.     A  preacher 


VLAN   OF   A   SEEMO^T.  207 

sliould  know,  beforeliand,  the  wants  of  Lis  audi- 
ence,  and  deliberately  make  up  his  mind,  in  respect 
to  the  species  of  impression  which  it  is  desirable 
to  produce.  When  this  point  is  settled,  then 
let  him  not  be  diverted  from  his  purpose,  but  do 
what  he  has  undertaken.  If  he  judges  that  mercy 
and  love  are  the  appropriate  themes  for  the  hour, 
let  liim  present  them  to  the  hearer's  mind,  and 
apply  them  to  tlie  hearer's  heart,  witliout  any  let  or 
hindrance.  And  if  he  judges  that  Divine  justice 
needs  to  be  exhibited,  and  set  home  to  the  con- 
science, let  him  not  temper  or  soften  it,  by  a  mixed 
peroration,  in  which,  oivi?ig  to  the  hrevity  of  tlie 
treatment  to  which  he  is  now  shut  up,  the  two  oppo- 
site ideas  of  love  and  wrath  will  inevitably  neu- 
tralize each  other,  in  the  mind  of  the  auditor. 

The  rule  above  mentioned  is  also  indefensible, 
on  moral  grounds.     It  is  not  upright  in  a  preacher, 
either  from  fear  of  man,  or  from  a  false  kindness, 
to  shrink,  in  the  peroration,  from  a  jolain  and  solemn 
application  of  the  subject  of  his  discourse.     He  is 
in  duty  bound,  to  make  the  truth  which  he  has 
established  bear  with  all  its  weight,  and  penetrate 
with  all  its  sharpness.     Tlie  sjyirit  witli  which  he 
should  do  this,  should  be  Christian.     Let  him  not 
dart  the  lightnings,  or  roll  the  thunders,   except 
with  the  utmost  solemnity,  the  utmost  fear  of  God, 
the  utmost  love  of  the  human  soul,  and  the  utmost 
solicitude  lest  he  be  actuated  by  human  pride,  or 
human  impatience.     "  Were  you  able  to  preach  the 


208  HOMILETICS.  ■ 

doctrine  tenderly  f "  said  McCheyne  to  a  friend,  who 
had  spoken  to  him  of  a  sermon  which  he  had  deliv- 
ered upon  endless  punishment.  Perhaps  the  imper- 
fection of  his  own  Christian  character  is  never  seen 
more  clearly  by  the  preacher,  than  in  the  manner 
in  which  he  constructs,  and  delivers,  the  perorations 
of  his  solemn  discourses.  He  finds  himself  run- 
ning to  extremes.  Either  he  is  afraid  to  be  j)'lain 
and  pungent,  in  applying  the  truth,  and  thereby 
puts  a  sheath  upon  the  sword  of  the  Spirit,  and 
muiSes  those  tones  which  ought  to  sound  startling 
as  a  fire-bell  at  midnight,  or  else  he  is  impatient 
with  his  drowsy  auditors,  or  is  puffed  up  with  self- 
conceit,  and  thunders  and  lightens  in  his  own 
strength,  and,  what  is  worse,  for  his  own  jpnrposes. 
"Put  the  lust  of  self!''  says  Coleridge,  "  in  the  forked 
lightning,  and  it  becomes  a  spirit  of  Moloch."  Self, 
in  all  its  phases,  must  be  banished  from  a  solemn 
application  of  an  awful  doctrine.  The  feeling  of 
the  preacher  should  be  that  of  the  timid,  shrinking, 
but  obedient  Jeremiah,  when  bending  under  the  bur- 
den of  the  Lord.  "  Then  said  I,  Ah  !  Lord  God ! 
behold  I  cannot  speak :  for  I  am  a  child.  But  the 
Lord  said  unto  me,  Say  not,  I  am  a  child :  for  thou 
shalt  go  to  all  that  I  send  thee,  and  whatsoever  1 
command  thee,  thou  shalt  speak." 

Apj^ropriateness  and  singleness,  then,  should 
characterize  the  concludino;  address  of  the  sermon. 
Bringing  all  the  teachings  of  the  discourse  into  a 
single  burning  focus,  it  should  converge  all  the  rays 


PLAN   OF   A   SERMOX.  209 

of  trutli  upon  a  single  spot.  That  spot  is  the  point 
in  the  hearers  soul,  where  the  feelings  and  the  con- 
science come  together.  Any  auditor  whose  affec- 
tions are  roused,  and  whose  conscience  is  stirred, 
may  he  left  to  himself,  and  the  Spirit  of  God  ;  and 
any  peroration  w^hich  accomplishes  this  work,  is 
eloquent. 

The  question  arises  at  this  point,  whether  the 
conclusion  by  direct  address  should  refer  to  both 
classes  of  hearers,  the  regenerate  and  unregenerate. 
The  answer  depends  upon  the  contents  and  charac- 
ter of  the  sermon.  It  is  possible,  that  a  discourse 
may  establish  a  proposition  that  admits  of  a  legiti- 
mate application,  to  both  the  regenerate  and  the  un- 
regenerate ;  though  in  this  case,  it  will  generally  be 
found  that  the  application  is  more  easy,  natural,  and 
forcible,  to  one  class  than  to  the  other.  The  doc- 
trine that  man  is  an  accountable  being,  for  example, 
may  be  legitimately  applied  to  the  Christian,  in  or- 
der to  stimulate  him  to  greater  fidelity ;  and  yet  its 
strongest  and  most  impressive  application  is  to  the 
impenitent  man,  who  has  made  no  prej)aration  to 
meet  the  coming  doom.  In  such  an  instance  as  this, 
good  judgment  would  decide,  that  the  address  to 
that  party  to  whom  the  subject  had  a  less  direct 
application,  should  be  very  brief, — a  hint,  rather 
than  an  application, — the  intensity  and  energy  of 
the  peroration  being  aimed  at  that  party  most  im 
mediately,  and  evidently,  concerned  with  the  subject. 

Hence,  in  laying  down  a  general  rule,  we  w  ould 
14 


'210  HO^tllLETICS. 

say  in  answer  to  the  question,  tliat  tlie  conclusion 
should  be  directed  to  but  one  class  in  the  audience. 
If  the  proposition  or  subject  applies  most  plainly 
to  the  church,  then  address  the  church  in  the  close. 
If  it  applies  most  significantly  to  the  congregation, 
then  address  the  congregation.  Without,  however, 
laying  down  this  rule  as  a  stiff  one,  to  which  there 
are  no  exceptions,  it  is  safest,  in  general  practice,  to 
allow  that  unity  of  aim  and  singleness  of  pursuit, 
which  is  unquestionably  the  constituent  principle  of 
eloquent  discourse,  a  free  operation.  Let  unity  run 
clear  throug-h  the  sermon,  and  clear  out.  If  there 
be  other  lessons  to  be  tau<?ht  from  the  text,  teach 
them  in  other  sermons.  If  there  be  other  aj)plica- 
tions  of  truth,  make  them  in  other  discourses.  It  is 
not,  as  if  the  preacher  had  no  other  opportunity ; 
as  if  he  must  say  every  thing  in  one  sermon,  and  ap- 
ply every  thing  in  a  single  discourse.  He  has  the 
year,  and  the  years  before  him,  in  which  to  make 
full  proof  of  his  ministry ;  in  which  to  exhibit  the 
truth  upon  all  sides,  and  to  apply  it  to  all  classes 
of  men.  Let  him,  therefore,  make  each  sermon  a 
round  and  simple  unit,  and  trust  to  the  whole  series 
of  his  sermons,  to  impart  a  full  and  comprehensive 
knowledge  of  the  Christian  system,  and  to  make  a 
complete  application  of  it  to  all  grades  and  varieties 
of  character. 

Having  thus  considered  the  two  species  of  con- 
clusion, it  may  be  asked,  if  it  is  proper  to  employ 
both  in  one  and  the  same  discourse.     We  answer, 


PLAN    OF   A   SEE3I0K.  211 

that,  altlioiigli  it  may  occasionally  be  allowable  to 
dravf  inferences  from  a  ^proposition,  and  afterwards 
end  with  a  direct  address  to  the  hearer,  yet  this 
should  be  done  veiy  rarely.  If  the  inferences  do 
not  possess  sufficient  self  applying  power,  and  need 
the  urgency  of  direct  address  to  enforce  them,  this 
proves  that  they  are  defective.  In  this  case,  it  is 
wiser  to  bestow  more  care  upon  the  inferences,  and 
to  endeavor  to  construct  a  true  and  adequate  infe- 
rential conclusion.  If  the  inferences  are  intrinsi- 
cally feeble,  no  amount  of  earnest  peroration  can 
remedy  this  defect.  Generally  speaking,  therefore, 
it  is  an  indication  of  inferiority  in  a  sermon  if  it  has 
a  mixed  conclusion,  and  yet  there  may  be  an  excep- 
tion to  this  general  rule.  If,  owing  to  the  abstruse 
nature  of  the  proposition,  or  the  subject,  the  infe- 
rential matter  in  the  sermon,  though  more  practical 
and  plain  than  the  argumentative  matter,  is  yet  con- 
siderably recondite  and  abstract,  the  preacher  may 
do  the  most  he  can  towards  impressing  his  subject 
upon  the  audience,  by  a  direct  address  to  them.  In 
some  such  case  as  this,  which  should  be  a  rare  one, 
and  must  be,  from  the  fact  that  but  few  themes  of 
this  highly  abstruse  nature  come  within  the  pro- 
vince of  sermonizing,  the  preacher  may  employ  both 
species  of  conclusion,  not  because  it  contributes 
to  the  greater  perfection  of  the  plan  of  a  sermon, 
but  because  it  is  a  choice  of  evils,  and  the  best  that 
can  be  done  under  the  difficulties  of  the  particular 
and  rare  case. 


212  HOMILETICS. 

In  closing  this  discussion  of  the  plan  and  its  seve- 
I'al  parts,  the  question  naturally  arises,  whether  a 
plan  should  invariably  be  formed  before  the  process 
of  composition  begins.  It  is  plain,  from  what  has 
been  said,  that  there  will  be  a  variety  in  the  ser- 
mons of  the  same  preacher,  in  respect  to  the  dis- 
tinctness with  which  the  plan,  and  its  parts,  show 
themselves  in  the  discourse.  Sometimes  the  skele- 
ton will  appear  through  the  flesh,  so  as  to  exhibit 
some  angularity ;  and  sometimes  it  will  be  so  clothed 
upon,  as  to  render  its  presence  more  difficult  of  de- 
tection. Sometimes  the  plan  will  be  prominent, 
and  sometimes  it  will  be  known  to  exist,  only  by  the 
general  unity  and  compactness  of  the  sermon.  But 
although  there  will  be  this  variety  in  the  sermon 
itself,  there  should  be  no  variation  in  the  method  of 
constructing  it.  The  sermonizer  should  uniformly 
form  a  plan,  before  beginning  to  compose.  The  plan 
may  sometimes  be  fuller,  and  more  perfect,  than  at 
others ;  but  a  plan  of  some  sort,  of  more  or  less  per- 
fection, should  invariably  be  formed  in  the  outset. 

By  this,  it  is  not  meant,  that  in  every  particular 
the  sermonizer  must  severely  confine  himself  to  his 
skeleton ;  never  modifying  the  plan,  after  he  has 
begun  to  compose.  It  will  sometimes  occur,  and 
this  perhaps  quite  often,  that  the  endeavor  to  fill 
out  the  plan  will  reveal  faults,  that  were  not  seen 
while  constructing  it.  These  faults  must  be  re- 
moved, and  this  leads  to  a  modification  of  the  plan 
itself,  in  and  during  the  process   of  composition. 


PLAK   OF   A   SEKMON.  213 

Indeed,  in  some  instances,  tlie  first  attempt  at  com- 
position serves  merely  to  introduce  tlie  mind  into 
tlie  heart  of  tlie  subject,  and  to  originate  a  truly 
organic  method  of  developing  it, — a  second  process 
of  composition,  a  re-'Wi'iting,  being  necessary  to  the 
completion  and  perfection  of  the  discourse.  Prob- 
ably, the  master-pieces  of  eloquence  were  composed 
in  this  manner.  The  first,  second,  or  even  third 
draught  served,  principally,  to  elaborate  a  thorough 
and  perfect  plan, — to  set  the  mind  upon  the  true 
trail,  and  enable  it,  in  the  phrase  of  Bacon,  to 
"hound"  the  nature  of  the  subject,  and  reach  the 
inmost  lurking-place  of  the  truth.  When  this  work 
was  accomplished,  the  mind  of  the  orator  was  then 
ready  for  that  last  draught,  and  elaboration,  which 
resulted  in  the  master- j)iece  and  model  for  all 
time. 

But,  although  the  sermonizer  may  modify  his 
plan  after  he  has  begun  to  compose,  he  may  not 
begin  to  compose  without  any  plan.  He  is  to 
construct  the  best  scheme  possible,  beforehand,  and 
to  work  under  it,  as  the  miner  works  under  his 
movable  hurdle  ;  never  disturbing  the  outside,  or 
the  main  props,  but  frequently  altering  the  interior 
and  secondary  frame-work,  as  the  progress  of  his 
labor  may  require.^ 

'  Skeletonizing  is  to  sermon-  sketching  the  human  figure,  and 

izing,  what  drawing  is  to  painting,  a  knowledge  of  its  anatomy.     In 

The    foundation  of    superior  ex-  this  consisted,  principally,  tlie  pre- 

cellence  in  this  art,  is  talent  in  eminence  of  Da  Vinci  and  Michael 


214  HOMILETICS. 

The  evils  of  sermonizing,  without  skeleton- 
izing, are  many  and  great.  In  the  first  place,  the 
preacher's  mind  loses  its  logical  and  constructive 
ability.  In  a  previous  chapter,  attention  was 
directed  to  the  excellent  influence  exerted  by  the 
analysis  of  sermons,  and  the  effort  to  detect  the 
plan  contained  in  them.  All  that  was  there  said 
in  this  reference,  applies,  with  even  greater  force, 
to  the  actual  construction  of  plans,  for  the  preacher's 
own  purposes.  No  mind  can  be  methodical,  that 
does  not  actually  methodize,  No  mind  can  be 
constructive,  that  does  not  actually  construct.  If, 
therefore,  the  sermonizer  neglects  this  practice  of 
skeletonizing,  and  begins  to  comjDose  without  a 
settled  scheme,  writing  down  such  thoughts  and 
observations  as  spontaneously  present  themselves, 
his  intellect  will  surely,  and  at  no  slow  rate,  lose 
all  its  logical  ability  and  all  its  methodizing  talent. 
The  fundamental  power  of  the  rhetorician  and 
orator,  the  cn^ganizing  power,  will  disappear.     And 


Angelo,  both  of  whom  possessed  a  of  his  art.  An  outline  sketch 
wonderfnl  anatomical  knowledge,  of  Angelo  is  more  full  of  meaning, 
and  exhibited  it  in  their  figures,  than  a  hundred  paintings  in 
The  lack  of  this  knowledge,  and  which  there  is  no  anatomy, 
skill,  cannot  be  compensated  for,  Retzsch's  "  Outlines"  are  wonder- 
by  other  excellencies.  Sir  Joshua  fully  full  of  life,  and  meaning, 
Eeynolds,  owing  to  the  defect  of  without  any  filling  up  from  paint- 
his  early  artistic  education  in  this  ing,  because  of  the  knowledge  of 
reference,  confined  himself  to  the  human  frame,  and  the  conse- 
portrait  painting ;  knowing,  that  quent  significance  of  attitudes, 
he  could  do  nothing  in  liistorioal  which  they  display, 
painting,  and   the  higher  ranges 


PLAJ!T   OF  A   SEEMON.  215 

if,  as  is  apt  to  be  the  case,  parallel  with  this  disuse 
of  the  understanding  and  the  reason,  there  is  an 
exorbitant  development  of  the  fancy  and  imagina- 
tion, the  very  woi'st  consequences  ensue.  The 
preacher  becomes  a  florid  and  false  rhetorician, 
composing  and  reciting  mere  extravaganzas.  He 
degenerates  into  a  rhapsodist,  making  a  sensation, 
for  the  moment,  in  the  sensibilities  of  a  staring 
audience,  but  producing  no  eloquent  imj^ression, 
upon  their  higher  faculties.  There  is  no  calculating- 
beforehand,  in  respect  to  the  issues  of  such  a  mind. 
Reversing  the  lines  which  the  poet  applied  to  his 
own  composition,  we  may  say  of  the  discourse  of 
a  preacher  of  this  character, 

"  Perhaps  't  will  be  a  sermon, 
Perhaps  't  -will  be  a  song." 

Secondly,  even  supposing  that,  ovnng  to  the  fact 
that  the  preacher's  mind  is  not  imaginative,  his 
preaching  does  not  become  rhapsodical,  and  feeble, 
yet,  if  he  neglects  the  practice  of  skeletonizing,  he 
becomes  ramblins:  and  diffuse.  Havius:  no  leadinsr 
idea,  branching  off  into  natural  ramifications,  by 
which  to  guide  his  mental  processes,  they  run  and 
ramble  in  every  direction.  Tlie  law  of  association 
is  the  sole  law  of  his  intellect.  He  follows  wher- 
ever this  leads  him;  and  the  law  of  association,  in 
an  illogical,  unreflecting  mind,  is  the  most  whimsi- 
cal and  capricious  of  laws.  It  associates  the  oddest 
and  most   heteroo-eneous  thin2:s,  and  sujrffests  the 


216  HOMELETICS. 

strangest  and  most  disconnected  ideas.  The  course 
wliicli  trains  of  tliougLt  take  in  sucli  a  mind,  re- 
sembles the  trails,  and  tracks,  of  the  myriads  of 
worms  that  are  "brought  up  out  of  ground,  by 
a  warm  June  rain.  Sometimes,  suck  a  mind  real- 
ly attempts  to  be  methodical,  and  then  the  dis- 
course reminds  one  of  Burke's  description  of  Lord 
Chatham's  cabinet ;  "  He  made  an  administration 
so  checkered  and  speckled ;  he  put  together  a  piece 
of  joinery  so  crossly  indented,  and  whimsically 
dove-tailed;  a  cabinet  so  variously  inlaid;  such,  a 
piece  of  diversified  mosaic ;  such  a  tesselated  pave- 
ment without  cement ;  kere  a  bit  of  black  stone, 
and  there  a  bit  of  white,  tkat  it  was  indeed  a  very 
curious  show ;  but  utterly  unsafe  to  touch,  and 
unsure  to- stand  on."^ 

Lastly,  the  neglect  to  form  a  plan,  previous  to 
composing,  results  in  a  declamatory  and  hortatory 
style  of  sermonizing.  If  an  immetkodical  preacker 
does  not  fall  into  one  or  both  of  the  faults  last 
mentioned,  he  falls  into  this  one.  If  he  has  no 
imagination,  and  no  ideas,  not  even  rambling  and 
disconnected  ones,  then  there  is  nothing  left  for 
him  but  to  declaim,  and  exkort ;  and  this  manner 
of  preaching  is,  perhaps,  the  most  ineffectual  and 
worst  of  all. 

Certainly,  suck  evils  as  the  three  we  have  men- 
tioned, constitute  the  strongest  of  reasons  for  not 

*  Burke  :  Speech  on  American  Taxation. 


PLAN   OF  A   SEEMOK  217 

neglecting  the  plan  of  an  oration ;  for  devoting  the 
utmost  attention,  and  uniform  attention,  to  the 
logical  organization  of  the  sermon.  It  is  a  sin,  for 
the  preacher  to  be  a  mere  rhapsodist.  It  is  a  sin, 
if  he  is  a  mere  rambling  babbler.  It  is  a  sin,  if  he 
is  a  mere  declamatory  exhorter.  He  is  solemnly 
bound  to  be  an  orator, — a  man  who  speaks  on  a 
method,  and  by  a  plan. 


CHAPTER    IX. 

EXTEMPORANEOUS  PREACHING. 

The  discussion  of  the  subject  of  Homiletics 
would  be  incomj^lete,  if  it  did  not  include  the  topic 
of  Extemporaneous  Preaching. 

This  species  of  Sacred  Eloquence  has  always 
existed  in  the  Church,  and  some  of  the  best  periods 
in  the  history  of  Christianity  have  been  character- 
ized by  its  wide  prevalence,  and  high  excellence. 
The  Apostolic  age,  the  missionary  periods  in  Patris- 
tic and  Mediaeval  history,  the  age  of  the  Reforma- 
tion, the  revival  of  evangelical  religion  in  the  Eng- 
lish Church  in  the  eighteenth  century,  in  connection 
with  the  preaching  of  Wesley  and  Whitefield,  and 
the  "  Great  Awakening,"  in  this  country,  were 
marked  by  the  free  utterance  of  the  extemporane- 
ous preacher.  Being  now  too  much  neglected,  b}^ 
the  clergy  of  those  denominations  which  both  fur- 
nish, and  require,  the  highest  professional  education, 
— a  clergy,  therefore,  who  have  the  best  right  to 
employ  this  species  of  sermonizing, — there  is  reason 
for   directing'  attention  to  it.     In   discussincr  this 


EXTEMPOEAXEOUS   PEEACniNG.  219 

subject,  we  shall,  first,  speak  of  tlie  nature  of 
extemporaneous  preaching,  and,  then,  of  some  of 
the  requisites  in  order  to  its  ?,\x.q,cqs?>?\A  practice. 

I.  The  term  "  extemporaneous,"  as  commonly 
employed,  denotes  something  hurried,  off-hand,  and 
superficial,  and  general  usage  associates  imperfec- 
tion, and  inefficiency,  with  this  adjective.  There  is 
nothing,  however,  in  the  etymology  of  the  word, 
which  necessarily  requires  that  such  a  signification 
be  put  upon  it.  Extemporaneous  preaching  is 
preaching  ex  tempore^  from  the  time.  This  may 
mean  either  of  two  things,  according  to  the  sense 
in  which  the  word  tempus  is  taken.  It  may  denote, 
that  the  sermon  is  the  hasty,  and  careless,  product 
of  that  one  particular  instant  of  time,  in  which  the 
person  speaks;  the  rambling  and  prolix  effort  of 
that 2)iinctum  temporis,  which  is  an  infinitely  small 
point,  and  which  can  produce  only  an  infinitely 
small  result.  This  is  the  meaning  too  commonly 
assigned  to  the  word  in  question,  and  hence,  infeii- 
ority  in  all  intellectual  respects  is  too  commonly 
associated  with  it,  both  in  theory  and  in  practice. 
For  it  is  indisputable,  that  the  human  mind  will 
work  very  inefficiently,  if  it  works  by  the  minute 
merely,  and  originates  its  products,  under  the  spur 
and  impulse  of  the  single  instant  alone. 

But,  the  phrase  "  extemporaneous  preaching " 
may  and  should  mean,  preaching  from  all  the  time, 
past  as  well  as  present.  Behind  every  extempora- 
neous sermon,  as  really  as  behind  every  wiitten 


220  HOMILETICS. 

sermon,  tlie  wliole  duration  of  tlie  preacher's  life, 
with  all  the  culture  and  learning  it  has  brought 
with  it,  should  lie.  The  genuine  extemporaneous 
discourse,  as  really  as  the  most  carefully  written 
discourse,  should  be  the  result  of  a  sum-total, — the 
exponent  of  the  whole  past  life,  the  whole  past  dis- 
cipline, the  whole  past  study  and  reflection  of  the 
man.  Sir  Joshua  Reynolds  was  once  asked,  by  a 
person  for  whom  he  had  painted  a  small  cabinet 
picture,  how  he  could  demand  so  much,  for  a  work 
which  had  employed  him  only  five  days.  He 
replied :  "  Five  days !  why,  sir,  I  have  expended 
the  work  of  thirty-five  years  upon  it."  This  was 
the  truth.  Behind  that  little  picture,  there  lay  the 
studies,  the  practice,  and  the  toil,  of  a  great  genius, 
for  more  than  three  decades  of  years,  in  the  paint- 
er's studio.  It  is  not  the  mere  immediate  effort 
that  must  be  considered,  in  estimating  the  nature 
and  value  of  an  intellectual  product,  but  that  far 
more  important  preparatory  effort  that  went  before 
it,  and  cost  a  lifetime  of  toil.  The  painter's  reply 
holds  good,  in  respect  to  every  properly  constructed 
extemporaneous  oration.  It  is  not  the  product  of 
the  mere  instant  of  time  in  which  it  is  uttered,  but 
involves,  equally  with  the  written  oration,  the  whole 
life,  and  entire  culture  of  the  orator. 

Taking  this  view  of  the  nature  of  extempora- 
neous preaching,  it  is  plain  that  there  is  not  such  a 
heaven-wide  difference  between  it,  and  written 
preaching,  as  is  often  supposed     There  is  no  onate- 


EXTEMP0EANE0U3  PEE  ACHING.  221 

rial  difference,  between  tlie  two.     The  extempora- 
neous sermon  must  be  constructed  upon  the  same 
general  principles  of  rhetoric  and  homiletics,  with 
the  written  sermon,  and  must  be  the  embodiment 
and  result  of  the  same  literary,  scientific,  and  pro- 
fessional culture.     The  difference  between  the  two 
Sj^ecies  of  discourses  is  merely  formal.     And  even 
this  statement  is  too  strong.     There  is  not  even  a 
strictly  formal  difference,  for  the  very  same  style 
and  diction,  the  very  same  technicalhj  formal  proper- 
ties, are  required  in  the  one  as  in  the  other.     The 
difference  does  not  res2:)ect  the  form  as  distinguished 
from  the  matter  of  eloquence,  but  merely  the  form  of 
the  form.   In  extemjijoraneous  preaching,  the  form  is 
oral,  while  in  other  species  it  is  written.    There  is, 
therefore,  not  only  no  material  difference  between 
the   two,  but  there   is  not   even  a  rigorously  and 
strictly  formal   difference.      Both   are   the   results 
of  the  same  study,  the  same  reflection,  the  same 
experience.     The  same  man  is  the  author  of  both, 
and  both  alike  will  exhibit  his  learninc:  or  his  iorno- 
ranee,  his  mental  power  or  his  mental  feebleness, 
his   spirituality  his  unspirituality.      An  ignorant, 
undisciplined,  and  unspiritual  man  cannot  write  a 
good  sermon;  neither  need  a  learned,  thoroughly 
discij)lined,  and  holy  man,  preach  a  bad  extempora- 
neous sermon.     For  nothing  but  the  want  of  lyi^ac- 
tice  would  prevent  a  learned  mind,  a  methodical 
mind,  a  holy  mind,   from  doing  itself  justice  and 
credit  in  extemporaneous  oratory. 


222  HOMILETICS. 

A  moment's  consideration  of  the  nature  and  ope- 
rations of  the  human  mind,  of  its  powers  by  nature, 
and  its  attainments  by  study,  is  sufficient  to  show 
that  the  difference  between  written  and  un'written 
discourse  is  merely  formal,  and  less  than  strictly 
formal ;  is  secondary,  and  highly  secondary.  The 
human  intellect  is  full  of  living  powers  of  vari- 
ous sorts,  capable  of  an  awakened  and  vigorous 
action,  which  expresses  and  embodies  itself  in  lite- 
rary products,  such  as  the  essay,  the  oration,  the 
poem.  But,  is  there  any  thing  in  the  nature  of  these 
powers,  which  renders  it  necessary  that  they  should 
manifest  themselves  in  one,  and  only  one,  way  ?  Is 
there  any  thing  in  the  constitution  of  the  human 
mind,  that  compels  it  to  exhibit  the  issues  of  its 
subtle  and  mysterious  agency,  uniformly,  and  in 
every  instance,  by  means  of  the  pen  ?  Is  there  any 
thing  in  the  intrinsic  nature  of  mental  discipline, 
which  forbids  its  utterance,  its  clear,  full,  and 
powerful  utterance,  by  means  of  spoken  words? 
Must  the  contents  of  the  heart,  and  intellect,  be, 
of  necessity,  discharged  only  by  means  of  the 
written  symbol  of  thought?  Certainly  not.  If 
there  only  be  a  mind  well  disciplined,  and  well 
stored  with  the  materials  of  discourse,  the  chief 
thing  is  secured.  The  manner,  whether  wiitten  or 
oral,  in  which  it  shall  deliver  itself,  is  a  secondary 
matter,  and  can  readily  be  secured  by  practice. 
If  the  habit  of  delivering  thought  without  pen  in 
hand  Avere  taken  up  as  early  in  life^  by  the  edu- 


EXTEMPOEAIs'EOUS  PEEACHIN'G.        223 

cated  clergy,  aud  ^vere  as  uniform  and  fixed^  as  is 
the  habit  of  delivering  it  with  pen  in  hand,  it  would 
be  just  as  easy  a  habit.  If  it  be  supposed,  that 
unwritten  discourse  is  incompatible  with  accuracy 
and  finish,  the  history  of  literature  disproves  it. 
Some  of  the  most  elaborate  literary  productions 
were  orally  delivered.  The  blind  Homer  extem- 
porized the  Iliad  and  Odyssey.  Milton,  in  his 
blindness,  dictated  to  his  daughter  the  Paradise 
Lost.  "Walter  Scott  often  employed  an  amanuensis, 
w^hen  weary  of  composing  with  the  pen  in  hand. 
Caesar,  it  is  said,  w'as  able  to  keep  several  amanu- 
enses busy,  each  upon  a  distinct  subject ;  thus 
carrying  on  several  processes  of  composition,  with- 
out any  aid  from  chirography.  The  private  secre- 
tary of  AVebster  remarks  of  him :  "  The  amount  of 
business  which  he  sometimes  transacted,  during  a 
single  morning,  may  be  guessed  at,  when  it  is  men- 
tioned, that  he  not  unfrequently  kept  two  persons 
employed,  writing  at  his  dictation,  at  the  same  time ; 
for,  as  he  usually  walked  the  floor  on  such  occasions, 
he  would  give  his  chief  clerk  in  one  room  a  sen- 
tence, to  be  incorporated  in  a  diplomatic  paper,  and, 
marching  to  the  I'oom  occupied  by  his  private  secre- 
tary, give  him  the  skeleton,  or  perhaps  the  very  lan- 
guage, of  a  private  letter."^  A  writer  in  the  Quar- 
terly Review  remarks,  that  "  it  was  in  the  oj^en  au*, 
that  Wordswortli  found  the  materials  for  his  poems, 

*  Lanmax  :  Private  Life  of  "Webster,  p.  81. 


224  HOilTLETICS. 

and  it  was  in  the  open  air,  according  to  the  poet 
himself,  that  nine-tenths  of  them  were  shaped.  A 
stranger  asked  permission  of  the  servant,  at  Rydal, 
to  see  the  study,  '  This,'  said  she,  as  she  showed  the 
room,  '  is  my  master's  library,  where  he  keeps  his 
books,  but  his  study  is  out  of  doors.'  The  poor 
neighbors,  on  catching  the  sound  of  his  humming, 
in  the  act  of  verse-making,  after  some  prolonged 
absence  from  home,  were  wont  to  exclaim,  '  There 
he  is ;  we  are  glad  to  hear  him  hooing  about  again.' 
From  the  time  of  his  settlement  at  Grasmere,  he 
had  a  physical  infirmity,  which  prevented  his  com- 
posing pen  in  hand.  Before  he  had  been  five  min- 
utes at  his  desk,  his  chest  became  oppressed,  and  a 
perspiration  started  out  over  his  whole  body ;  to 
which  was  added,  in  subsequent  years,  incessant 
liability  to  inflammation  in  his  eyes.  Thus,  when 
he  had  inwardly  digested  as  many  lines  as  his 
memory  could  carry,  he  usually  had  recourse  to 
some  of  the  inmates  of  his  house,  to  commit  them 
to  paper."^ 

There  is,  therefore,  nothing  in  the  nature  of 
extemporaneous  preaching  incompatible  with  tho- 
roughness of  insight,  clearness  of  presentation,  or 
power  of  expression.  Wheth  er  an  unwritten  sermon 
shall  be  profound,  lucid,  and  impressive,  or  not,  de- 
pends upon  the  preacher.  If,  after  the  due  amount 
of   immediate   labor   upon   it,  it  fails   to   possess 

*  London  Quabtebly  Keview  :  Vol.  XCII,  p.  212. 


EXTEMPOEAinEOUS   PREACHIKG.  225 

tlie  qualities  of  good  discourse,  it  is  because  the 
author  liimself  lacks  either  learniug,  discipline,  or 
practice,  and  not  because  there  is  any  thing  in  the 
nature  of  the  production  in  question,  to  preclude 
depth,  clearness,  and  effectiveness. 

The  truth  of  these  remarks  -will  be  still  mort 
apparent,  if  we  bear  in  mind,  that  the  extemporane 
ous  sermon  has  not  had  the  due  amount  of  work 
expended  upon  it.  It  has  too  often  been  resorted 
to,  in  idle  and  indolent  moods,  instead  of  being  the 
object,  upon  which  the  diligent  and  studious 
preacher  has  expended  the  best  of  his  power,  and 
the  choicest  of  his  time.  Again,  the  extempora- 
neous seimon  has  not  been  the  product  of  perse- 
vering practice,  and  of  the  skill  that  comes  from 
persevering  practice.  The  preacher,  in  the  tremor 
of  his  opening  ministry,  makes  two  or  three  attempts 
to  preach  extempore,  and  then  desists.  Kemember- 
ing  the  defects  of  these  first  attempts,  and  compa- 
ring them  with  the  more  finished  discourses  which 
lie  has  been  in  the  liabit^  and  practice  of  ^vi'iting,  he 
draws  the  hasty  and  unfounded  inference,  that, 
from  the  nature  of  the  case,  oral  discourse  must  be 
inferior  to  written  discourse.  But  who  can  doubt, 
that  "svath  an  equal  amount  of  practice,  of  patient, 
persistent  practice,  this  species  of  sermon  might  be 
made  equal  to  the  other,  in  those  solid  qualities  in 
which,  it  must  be  confessed,  it  is  too  generally  infe- 
rior ?  Who  can  doubt,  that  if  the  clergy  would 
form  the  habit,  and  acquire  the  self-possession  and 
15 


226  HOMILETICS. 

skill,  of  tlie  lawyer,  in  respect  to  unwritten  dis- 
course, and  then  would  expend  the  same  amount  of 
labor  upon  the  unwritten,  that  they  do  upon  the 
written  sermon,  it  would  be  as  j)rofound,  as  logical, 
as  finished,  and  more  effective?  The  fact  is,  that 
there  is  nothing  in  the  oral,  any  more  than  in  the 
written  method  of  deliverino:  thou2:ht,  that  is  fitted 
to  hamper  the  operations  of  the  human  mind.  If 
an  educated  man  has  truth  and  eloquence  within 
him,  it  needs  nothing  but  constant  practice^  to  bring 
it  out  in  either  form  he  pleases,  in  written,  or  in 
extemporaneous  language.  Habit  and  practice  will, 
in  either  case,  impart  both  ability  and  facility. 
Take  away  the  skill  which  is  acquired  by  the 
habitual  practice  of  composing  with  the  pen  in 
hand,  and  it  would  be  as  difficult  for  one  to  deliver 
his  thoughts  in  writing,  as  it  is  for  one  who  has 
acquired  no  skill  by  the  practice  of  extemporaneous 
discourse,  to  deliver  his  thoughts  orally.  Nay,  how 
often,  when  the  thoughts  flow  thick  and  fast,  is  the 
slow  pen  found  to  impede  the  process  of  composi- 
tion. In  such  a  case,  the  mind  yearns  to  give  itself 
vent  in  unwritten  Ian2:ua2:e,  and  would  do  so,  if  it 
had  only  acquired  the  confidence  before  an  audience, 
and  the  skill,  which  are  the  result,  not  of  mere 
nature  but,  of  habit  and  practice. 

II.  The  truth  of  these  assertions,  respecting  the 
intrinsic  nature  of  extemporaneous  preaching,  will 
be  still  more  evident,  by  considering  the  chief  requi- 
sites, in  order  to  the  attainment  of  the  gift.     It 


EXTEJIPOEANEOUS   PEEACIUNG.  227 

will  be  foimd,  that  provided  these  exist,  the 
unwritten  sermon  affords  an  opportunity,  for  the 
display  of  all  those  substantial  qualities  which  are 
commonly  suj^posed  to  belong  to  written  sermons 
alone,  and,  in  addition,  of  all  those  qualities  which 
co-exist  only  with  the  burning  words,  and  free 
delivery,  of  the  orator  untrammeled  by  a  manu- 
script, and  the  eftbrt  to  read  it. 

1.  The  first  requisite,  in  order  to  extemporane- 
ous preaching,  is  a  heart  glowing  and  heating  loith 
evangelical  affections.  The  heart  is  the  seat  of  life, 
the  source  of  vigor,  the  spring  of  power.  From 
this  centre,  vitality,  energy,  and  impulse  go  out, 
and  pervade  the  w^hole  system.  To  the  heart, 
whether  in  physiology  or  psychology,  we  must  look 
for  the  central  force.  If  profound  feeling,  the  feel- 
ing that  is  grounded  in  reason  and  truth,  pervade 
discourse,  it  will  surely  attain  the  end  of  eloquence, 
and  produce  dee]:)  movement  in  the  hearer.  That 
peculiar  energy,  issuing  from  the  heart,  which  we 
designate  by  the  word  emotion,  must  mix  and  min- 
gle with  the  energy  issuing  from  the  intellect,  in 
order  to  the  highest  power  of  speech.  It  was 
because,  as  Macaulay  says,  "  his  reason  was  pene- 
trated and  made  red-hot  by  his  passion,"  that  Fox 
was  one  of  the  most  effective  and  overwhelmins:  of 
orators.  And  the  same  truth  will  be  evident,  if, 
instead  of  looking  at  the  discourse  itself,  we  con- 
template the  action  of  the  discourser's  mind.  In 
order  that  the  human  fixculties  may  work  with  the 


228  noinLETics. 

greatest  energy  and  harmony,  the  heart  must  be  in 
the  head,  and  the  head  in  the  heart.  Never  does 
the  mind  operate  so  powerfully,  and  with  such 
truth  and  heauty  of  result,  as  when  the  faculty  of 
cognition  co- works  with  the  faculty  of  feeling.  If 
these  two  faculties  become  one  and  indivisible  in 
action,  the  result  is  not  merely  truth,  but  living 
truth ;  truth  fused  and  glowing  with  all  the  feeling 
of  the  heart,  and  feeling  mingled  with,  and  made 
substantial  by,  all  the  truth  of  the  head.  The  light 
is  heat,  and  the  heat  is  light. 

These  remarks  respecting  the  function,  and 
agency  of  the  heart,  are  true  in  every  province,  but 
especially  in  that  of  religion.  Tlie  inmost  essence 
of  religion  itself  has  been  placed  by  Schleiermacher, 
one  of  the  profoundest  of  the  German  theologians, 
solely  in  feeling.  It  is,  probably,  an  error,  to  make 
either  knowledge  or  feeling,  hj  itself^  and  apart 
from  the  otlier^  the  ultimate  essence  of  religion. 
Religion  is  neither'  knowledge  in  isolation,  nor  feel- 
ing in  isolation,  but  a  most  original  and  intimate 
synthesis  of  both.  If  either  element  by  itself  be 
regarded  as  the  sole  and  sing-le  constituent,  theol- 
ogy  becomes  either  rationalistic  and  speculative,  or 
else  mystical  and  vague.  And  yet,  even  those 
theologians  whose  scientific  spirit  has  led  them  to 
emphasize  creeds,  and  made  them  shy  of  senti- 
mental religion,  have  always  acknowledged  that  the 
heart  is  not  only  the  seat  of  piety,  but  one  impor- 
tant source  of  theological  science  itself 


EXTEMPORANEOUS   PEEACIITNG.  229 

If  this  is  true,  iu  reference  to  tlie  tlieologian,  it 
is  still  more  so,  iu  reference  to  tlie  preacLer.  He 
needs  tlie  strong  stir  and  impulse  of  holy  affections, 
in  order  to  succeed  in  lais  vocation ;  and,  especially, 
wlien  he  has  not  the  written  discourse  upon  which 
to  rely.  A  heart  re23lete,  and  swelling,  with  the 
grand  emotions  of  Christianity,  is  a  well  of  water 
springing  up  into  everlasting  life  and  power,  for  it 
is  fed  from  infinite  fountains.  With  what  force, 
vividness,  and  natural  method,  also,  does  the.  Chris- 
tian, destitute,  it  may  he,  of  mental  discij^line  and 
culture,  sometimes  speak  upon  the  subject  of  reli- 
gion, out  of  a  full  heart.  What  wonderful  insight, 
does  he  oftentimes  display,  into  the  very  dej^ths  of 
religion  and  theology,  thus  proving  the  truth  of  the 
saying,  "  the  heart  sees  further  than  the  head."  Or, 
to  take  another  instance,  with  what  j^ower  and 
fresh  originality  does  the  convicted  sinner  utter 
himself  uj^on  the  doctrine  of  human  guilt,  when  he 
is  full  of  the  awful  feeling  itself.  Given,  a  heart 
filled  with  intelligent  rational  emotion  respecting 
any  subject,  and  the  primal  j^ower  by  which  effective 
discourse  u}X)n  it  is  to  be  originated,  is  given  also. 

iSTow,  so  far  as  this  first  requisite  in  order  to  the 
practice  of  extemporaneous  preaching  is  concerned, 
it  can  most  certainly  be  secured  by  every  preacher. 
Nay,  he  is  presumed  to  possess  it,  as  that  which,  in 
a  great  degree,  justifies  him  in  entering  the  minis- 
try. Let  him  by  prayer  and  meditation,  first  purify 
the  feeling  of  his  heart,  and  then  render  it  more 


230  HOMILETICS. 

deep  and  intense  by  the  same  means,  and  lie  will 
be  prepared  to  sjDeak  freely,  and  forcibly,  to  the 
human  heart.  Let  him  take  heed  that  his  feelinor 
be  spiritual^  an  affection,  in  distinction  from  a  pas- 
sion,^ the  product  of  God's  Word  and  Spirit,  and 
not  the  mere  excitement  of  the  sensil)ilities,  and  he 
will  preach  with  the  demonstration  of  the  spirit, 
and  with  power,  as  did  Paul,  "  without  notes," 
though  it  may  be  in  weakness,  and  in  fear,  and  in 
much  trembling,  and  not  with  enticing  words. 

2.  In  the  second  place,  a  metJiodizing  intellect  is 
requisite,  in  order  to  successful  extemporaneous 
preaching.  By  a  methodizing  intellect  is  meant, 
one  which  spontaneously  works  in  a  logical  manner, 
and  to  which  consecutive  reasonino;  has  become 
natural.  All  truth  is  logical.  It  is  logically  con- 
nected and  related,  and  that  mind  is  methodical 
which  detects  this  relation,  and  connection,  as  it 
were,  by  instinct.  This  natural  logic,  this  sponta- 
neous method,  is  one  great  source  of  mental  power. 
How  readily  do  we  listen  to  one  who  unfolds  truth 
with  a  facile,  and  effortless  precision,  and  how 
easily  does  his  discourse  wiu  its  way  into  us. 

We  have  said  that  truth  is  logical,  in  its  essen- 
tial nature.  But  it  is  equally  true,  that  the  human 
mind  is  logical  in  its  essential  nature.  For  the 
truth  and  the  mind  are  correlatives.     One  is  set 


'See  the  account  of  this  hn-    min:  Rhetoric,  p.  131,  sq. 
portant   distinction,    hy    Tueks- 


EXTEMPOEANEOUS   PEEACnilfQ.  231 

over  against  the  otlier.  Tlie  trutli  is  the  object  to 
be  known,  and  tlic  mind  is  the  subject  or  agent  to 
know  it ;  and  subject  and  object  are  antitheses,  like 
hunger  and  food,  like  thirst  and  water.  Conse- 
quently, in  its  idea,  or,  in  other  words,  by  its  crea- 
tion, the  human  intellect  is  as  logical  in  its  struc- 
ture, as  the  truth  is  in  its  nature.  By  its  constitu- 
tion, the  mind  is  designed  to  be  methodical  and 
consecutive  in  its  working,  and  to  apprehend  logical 
truth  logically. 

Now,  by  reason  of  discij^line  and  practice,  the 
human  intellect  works  towards  this  true  end  of  its 
creation,  and  acquires  an  instinctive  ability  to  think 
methodically,  and  to  unfold  consecutively  any  sub- 
ject presented  to  it.  The  exhibition  of  trutli  by  a 
methodizing  intellect  is  exhaustive  (to  use  a  term  of 
Mackintosh),  and  the  whole  truth  is  thus  unfolded 
in  its  substance,  its  connections,  and  relations.  This 
methodizing  talent  developes  a  subject,  unrolling  it 
to  the  centre,  and  showing  the  whole  of  it.  Kant 
has  a  chapter  ujxju  the  architectonic  nature  of  the 
pui-e  reason, — by  which  he  means,  that  innate 
system  of  laws  which  reason  follows,  in  building  up 
architecturally  its  conclusions, — and  shows,  that 
when  these  laws  are  followed,  a  loirical  whole  is 
as  certainly  and  naturally  produced,  as  is  the 
honeycomb  with  its  hexagonal  cells,  when  the  bee 
follows  the  architectonic  laws  of  instinct.  ^     Now,  a 

*  Kant  :  Kritik  der  reinen  Ver-     touik  dor  rcinea  Vernunft.) 
nunft,  I).  Gil  sq.     (Die  Arcliitok- 


232  HOMILETICS. 

methodizing  mind  is  one  which,  by  discipline  and 
practice,  has  reached  that  degree  of  philosophic 
culture,  in  which  these  systematizing  laws  work 
spontaneously^  by  ilieir  own  exceeding  lawfulness^ 
and  instinctively  develope,  in  a  systematic  and  con- 
secutive manner,  the  whole  truth  of  a  subject.  The 
results  of  the  operation  of  such  a  mind  may  well 
be  called  architecture ;  for  they  are  built  up  accord- 
ing to  eternal  law,  in  order,  and  beauty.  There  is 
no  grander  fabric,  no  fairer  architectural  structui'e, 
than  a  rational,  logical  system  of  truth.  It  is  fairer, 
and  more  majestic  than  St.  Peter's.  A  great  system 
of  thouo-ht  rises  like  that  cathedral  with  a 

o 

"  Vastness  which  grows ;  but  grows  to  harmonize, 
All  musical  in.  its  immensities." 

In  speaking  of  the  heart  as  the  seat  of  feeling, 
we  had  occasion  to  allude  to  its  influence,  in  modi- 
fying the  operations  of  the  mind  considered  as  a 
whole.  It  was  seen,  that  it  imj)arts  vitality  to  the 
total  mental  action,  and  infuses  vigor  through  all 
the  products  of  this  action.  A  methodizing  intellect 
exerts  a  very  important  influence  in  the  same  refer- 
ence. Feelins:,  thousjh  vivific  and  enero-izin^;,  is  not 
precise  and  clear  in  its  own  nature.  The  man  of  all 
feeling  has  a  vague  and  mystic  tendency.  Hence, 
the  need  of  logic,  in  order  that  the  energy  issuing 
from  the  heart  may  be  prevented  from  diffusing 
itself  over  too  wide  a  surface,  and  may  be  guided 
into  channels,  and  flow  along  in  them.     When  a 


EXTEJIPOEAm:OUS   PEEACIIING.  233 

beating  heart  is  allied  witli  a  metlioclizing  mind, 
there  is  at  once  vigor  and  life,  with  clearness  and 
precision.  The  warm  emotions  are  kept  from  ex- 
haling, and  becoming  vapory  and  obscure,  by  the 
systematizing  tendency  of  the  logical  faculty,  and 
the  hard,  dry  forms  of  logic  are  softened,  and  en- 
livened, by  the  vernal  breath  of  the  emotions. 

It  is  evident,  that  if  the  sacred  orator  possesses 
such  a  discipline  of  head  and  heart  as  has  been 
described,  it  will  be  easy  for  him  to  apply  it  to  any 
theme  he  chooses,  and  speak  upon  it  in  any  manner 
he  may  elect.  The  human  mind,  when  highly 
trained,  can  labor  with  success  in  almost  every 
direction.  Education  is,  in  truth,  not  a  dead  mass 
of  accumulations,  but  the  power  to  work  with  the 
brain.  If  this  power  be  acquired,  it  is  a  matter  of 
secondary  consequence,  what  be  the  special  topic 
upon  which  the  work  is  expended,  or  the  particular 
manner,  oral  or  written,  in  which  the  result  is  em- 
bodied. In  the  ancient  gymnasium,  the  first  pur- 
pose was  to  produce  a  muscular  man,  an  athlete. 
When  this  was  accomplished,  it  mattered  little 
whether  he  entered  the  lists  of  the  wrestler,  or  of 
the  boxer,  or  of  the  racer.  Nay,  if  he  were  tho- 
roughbred, he  might  attempt  the  pancratium  itself, 
and  carry  off  the  laurels.  Assuming  the  existence 
of  such  a  salient  heart,  and  such  a  methodical  head, 
nothing  but  habitual  practice  is  needed,  to  permit 
their  employment  before  any  audience  whatsoever, 
and  without   the   aid  of    a  manuscript.      If   the 


234  H03IILETICS. 

2)reaclier  has  attained  this  facility  of  methodizing, 
and  is  under  the  impulse  of  ebullient,  swelling 
affections,  awakened  by  the  clear  vision  of  divine 
truths  and  realities,  he  will  be  able  to  speak  power- 
fully, in  any  presence,  and  extempore.  The  furnace 
is  full,  and  the  moulds  are  ready.  Nothing  is  needed, 
but  to  draw  off;  and  when  this  is  done,  a  solid  and 
symmetrical  product  is  the  result. 

3.  A  third  requisite,  in  order  to  the  practice  of 
extemporaneous  preaching,  is  the  ])oiDer  of  am][)liji' 
cation}  By  this  is  meant,  the  ability  to  dwell 
upon  an  important  point  or  principle,  until  the 
hearer  shall  feel  the  whole  force  of  it.  It  is  the 
tendency  of  a  thoughtful,  and  especially  of  a  method- 
izing mind,  to  be  satisfied  with  the  great  leading 
principles  of  a  theme,  and  not  to  tarry  long  upon 
any  one  idea,  however  capital  it  may  be.  Such  a 
mind  is  able  to  pass  over  a  subject  with  great  rapi- 
dity, by  touching  only  the  prominent  parts  of  it,  as 
the  fabled  Titans  stepped  from  mountain  to  moun- 
tain, without  going  up  and  down  the  intervening 
valleys.  But  the  common  hearer,  the  popular  audi- 
ence, cannot  follow,  and  hence  the  methodical  and 
full  mind  must  learn  to  enlarge,  and  illustrate,  until 
the  principle  is  perceived  in  all  its  length  and 
breadth,  and  the  idea  is  contemplated  in  all  its 
height  and  depth.  Just  in  proportion,  as  the 
methodizing  mind  acquires  this  amplifying  talent, 

'  Compare  the  Axjtiioi:''s  "  Discourses  and  Essays,"  p.  96. 


EXTESIPOEAlsTIOUS   PKEACirEN^G.  235 

does  it  become  oratorical ;  Avitliout  it,  tliougli  tliere 
may  be  pliilosopby,  tliere  cannot  be  eloquence. 

But  this  talent  will  be  rapidly  acquired,  by 
careful  pains  and  practice  in  regard  to  it.  The 
speaker  needs  merely  to  stop  bis  mind,  in  its  on- 
ward logical  movement,  and  let  its  energy  bead 
back  upon  the  idea,  or  tbe  principle,  which  bis 
feeling  and  bis  logic  have  brought  out  to  view. 
Indeed,  the  tendency,  after  a  little  practice,  wiU  be 
to  dwell  too  long,  to  amplify  too  much,  when  once 
the  intellect  has  directed  its  whole  power  to  a  single 
topic.  As  matter  of  fact,  the  joreacher  vrill  find, 
altogether  contrary  to  bis  expectations,  that  his  oral 
discourse  is  more  expanded  and  diffuse  than  his 
written,  that  his  extemporaneous  sermon  is  longer 
than  his  manuscript.  Jin  undue  amplification  is 
the  principal  fault  in  the  eloquence  of  Burke,  who 
was  one  of  the  most  methodical,  and  full  minds  in 
literaiy  histoiy.     In  the  language  of  Goldsmith,  he 

"  went  on  refining, 

And  thought  of  convincing,  while  thej 'thought  of  dining." 

Hence,  although  never  unwelcome  to  his  readers, 
his  magnificent  amplification  was  sometimes  tedious 
to  his  hearers.  Though  the  British  House  of 
Commons,  at  the  close  of  the  last  century,  was  not 
a  "fit  audience"  for  Burke,  because  it  had  but 
small  sympathy  with  that  broad,  and  high  political 
philosoi^hy,  out  of  which  his  masculine  and  thought- 
ful eloquence  sprang  like  the  British  oak  from  the 


236  HOMILETICS. 

strong  "black  mould  of  ages,  tliougli  Burke  would 
not  be  tlie  "dinner-bell"  for  tlie  present  Britisli 
Parliament,  still,  Ms  excessive  amplification,  un- 
doubtedly, somewhat  imj^edes  tliat  rapid  rusli, 
and  Demosthenean  vehemence  of  movement,  whicli 
distinguishes  eloquence  from  all  other  species  of 
discourse. 

4.  A  fourth  requisite,  in  order  to  successful 
extemporaneous  preaching,  is  a  precise  onode  of 
expression.  A  methodical  mind  thinks  clearly,  and 
therefore  the  language  should  be  select,  and  exact, 
that  it  may  suit  the  mental  action.  If  the  orator's 
thoughts  are  distinct  and  lucid,  he  needs  carefully 
to  reject  any  and  every  word,  that  does  not  convey 
the  precise  meaning  he  would  express.  Indeed, 
rejection  is  the  chief  work,  in  clothing  the  thoughts 
of  a  highly  disciplined  mind.  It  is  an  error  to 
suppose,  that  the  main  difficulty  in  extemporaneous 
preaching  lies  in  the  want  of  words,  just  as  it  is  an 
error  to  suppose,  that  great  natural  fluency  is  an 
indispensable  aid  to  it.  Dr.  Chalmers  never 
acquired  the  ability  to  speak  extempore,  in  a  man- 
ner at  all  satisfactory  to  himself,  or  to  his  auditors, 
when  they  remembered  his  written  discourses.  And 
the  cause  of  this,  according  to  his  own  statement, 
was,  the  unmastered  and  overmastering  fluency  of 
his  mind.  Thoughts  and  words  came  in  on  him, 
like  a  flood.  In  extemporaneous  utterance,  they 
impeded  each  other,  to  use  his  own  expression,  like 
water  attempted  to  be  poured  all  at  once  out  of  a 


EXTEMPOEANEOUS  PEEACnTN-G.        237 

narrow-mouthed  jug.  A  more  entire  mastery  of 
Lis  resources,  a  power  to  repress  this  fluency,  to 
control  tlie  comino;  deluere,  which  mio-ht  have  been 
acquired  by  patient  practice,  would  have  rendered 
Chalmers  a  most  wonderful  extemporaneous  preach- 
er, at  the  same  time  that  it  would  have  improved 
his  written  sermons,  by  rendering  them  less  ple- 
thoric and  tumid  in  style,  and  more  exact  and  pre- 
cise in  phraseology. 

Uncontrolled  fluency  is  equally  a  hindrance  to 
excellent  poetical  composition.  Byron  speaks  of 
the  "  fatal  facility  "  of  the  octo-syllabic  verse.  It 
runs  too  easily,  to  be  favorable  to  the  composition 
of  thoughtful  poetry.  Some  of  Byron's  own  poe- 
try, and  a  great  deal  of  Scott's,  betrays  this  fatal 
facility,  in  a  too  abundant  use  of  what  Goldsmith 
humorously  calls  "the  property  of  jinglimus."  The 
melody  is  not  subordinated  to  the  harmony,  the 
rhythm  is  monotonous,  and  the  reader  sighs  after  a 
more  stirring  and  varied  music. 

Natural  fluency  is  a  fatal  facility  in  the  orator 
also,  unless  he  guards  against  it,  by  the  cultivation 
of  strict  logic,  and  precise  phraseology.  ]\Ieu  gen- 
erally, even  those  who  are  reputed  to  be  men  of 
few  words,  are  fluent  when  roused.  AVhenthe  feel- 
ings are  awakened,  and  the  intellect  is  working 
intensely,  there  are  more  thoughts  and  words  than 
the  unpractised  speaker  can  take  care  of.  What  is 
needed  is,  coolness  and  entire  self-mastery,  in  the 
midst  of  this  animation  and  inspiration,  so  that  it 


238  HOMILETICS. 

may  not  interfere  with  itself,  and  impede  its  own 
movement.  What  is  needed  is,  the  ability,  in  this 
glow  of  the  heart,  this  tempest  and  whirlwind  of 
feeling,  to  reject  all  thoughts  that  do  not  strictly 
belong  to  the  subject,  and  all  words  that  do  not 
precisely  convey  £he  cool,  clear  thought  of  the  cool, 
clear  head.  The  orator  must  be  able  to  check  his 
thunder  in  mid  volley.  This  is  really  the  great 
aii;  in  extemporaneous  discourse ;  and  it  cannot  be 
attained  except  by  continual  practice,  and  careful 
attention,  with  reference  to  it.  The  old  and  finished 
sj)eaker  always  uses  fewer  and  choicer  vrords,  than 
the  young  orator.  The  language  of  Webster  during 
the  last  half  of  his  public  life  was  more  select  and 
precise,  than  it  was  previously.  He  employed  fewer 
words,  to  convey  the  same  amount  of  meaning,  by 
growing  more  nice,  and  careful,  in  the  rejection  of 
those  va2:ue  words  which  come  thick  and  thronofincj 
when  the  mind  is  roused.  Hence,  the  language  he 
did  use  is  full  of  meaning ;  as  one  said,  "  every 
word  weighs  a  pound." 

We  have  thus  discussed  the  principal  requisites, 
in  order  to  successful  extemjDoraneous  preaching. 
It  will  be  evident,  that  the  subject  has  not  been 
placed  upon  a  weak  foundation,  or  that  but  little 
has  been  demanded  of  the  extemporaneous  preacher. 
A  heart  full  of  devout  and  spiritual  affections,  a 
spontaneously  methodizing  intellect,  the  power  of 
amplification,  and  a  precise  phraseology,  are  not 
small  attainments.     A  great  preparation  has  been 


EXTEMPORANEOUS   PEEACniKG.  239 

required,  on  the  part  of  Liin  who  preaches  unwrit- 
ten sermons ;  but  only  because  it  is  precisely  the 
same  that  is  required,  in  order  to  the  production  of 
excellent   written   discourse.      If  this   preparation 
has  actually  been  made, — if  his  heart  is  full,  and  his 
intellect  spontaneously  methodical  in  its  working ; 
if  he  can  dwell  sufficiently  long  upon  particular 
points,  and  can  express  himself  with  2:)recision, — 
then,  with  no  more  immediate  preparation  than  is 
required  to   compose  the  T^rritten  sermon,  and   xo 
LESS,  the  preacher  may  speak  as  logically  as  he  does 
when  he  writes,  and  even  more  freshly  and  impres- 
sively.    But,  as  was  remarked  in  the  beginning  of 
the  chapter,  the  extemporaneous  sermon  will  be  the 
j^roduct,  not  of  the  particular  instant  but,  of  all  the 
time  of  the  speaker's  life, — of  all  the  knowledge 
and  culture  he  has  acquired,  by  the  sedulous  disci- 
pline of  his  intellect,  and  the  diligent  keeping  of 
his  heart.     Whether,  then,  all  may  preach  unwrit- 
ten sermons,  depends  upon  whether  all  may  acquire 
the   requisites  that  have  been  described ;   and  to 
assert   that  the  clergy,  generally,   cannot    acquire 
them,  would  be   a  libel  upon  them.     There  have 
been  instances  of  men  so  thorouo-h  in  their  learn ino-. 
and   so  spontaneously  methodical  in   their  mental 
habits,  that,  even  with  little  or  no  immediate  prepa- 
ration, they  could  speak  most  logically  and  effect- 
ively.    It  is  related   of  John  Howe,  that,   "sucb 
were  his  stores  of  thought,  and  so  thoroughly  were 
they  digested,   he    could   preach   as   methodically 


240  HOMILETICS. 

without  preparation,  as  others  after  tlie  closest 
study."  Robert  Hall  composed  his  singularly  fin- 
ished and  elegant  discourses,  lying  at  full  length 
upon  chairs  placed  side  by  side,  a  device  to  relieve 
acute  pain.  It  is  true,  that  these  were  extraordinary 
men,  but  not  a  little  of  their  power  arose  from  the 
simple  fact,  that  they  felt  strongly,  thought  patient- 
ly, and  practised  constantly. 

And  this  brings  us  to  the  last,  but  by  no  means 
least  important  point,  in  the  discussion  of  this  sub- 
ject ;  and  this,  is  the  patient  and  persevering  ]y^'Cic- 
tice  of  extemporaneous  preaching.  These  requisites 
to  unwritten  discourse  that  have  been  mentioned, 
may  all  be  attained,  and,  as  matter  of  fact,  are  at- 
tained in  a  greater  or  less  degree,  by  every  preacher 
who  composes  written  sermons,  and  yet  there  be  no 
extemj)oraneous  discourse.  Many  a  preacher  is  con- 
scious of  possessing  these  capabilities,  and  can  and 
does  exert  them  through  the  pen,  who  would  be 
overwhelmed  and  struck  dumb,  if  he  should  be  de- 
prived of  his  manuscript,  and  compelled  to  address 
an  audience  extemporaneously.  These  requisites 
must,  therefore,  actually  he  put  into  Teqidsition. 
The  preacher  must  actually  speak  extemporane- 
ously, and  be  in  the  habit  of  so  doing.  And  there 
is  one  single  rule,  and  but  one,  the  observance  of 
which  will  secure  that  uniform  practice,  without 
which  the  finest  capacities  will  lie  dormant  and  un- 
used. At  the  very  opening  of  his  ministry,  the 
preacher  must  begin  to  deliver  one  extemporaneous 


EXTESrPOKANEOUS   PEEACHIXG. 


241 


sermon  or  the  Sabbatla,  and  do  so,  uniformly,  to  tlie 
close  of  it.  A  resolute,  patient,  and  faithful  observ- 
ance of  this  rule  will  secure  all  that  is  needed.  The 
preacher  must  pay  no  regard  to  difficulties  in  the 
outset,  must  not  be  discouraged  or  chagrined  by 
the  bad  logic,  or  bad  grammar,  of  his  earlier  at- 
temj^ts,  must  not  heed  the  remarks  and  still  less  the 
advice  of  fastidious  hearers ;  but  must  prepare  as 
carefully  as  possible  for  the  task  as  it  comes  round 
to  him,  and  perform  it  as  earnestly,  seriously,  and 
scrupulously,  as  he  does  his  daily  devotions.^     In 


'  The  following  was  the  method 
of  Dr.  Blackburn,  a  distinguished 
Southern  preacher,  in  making  the 
immediate  preparation  for  un- 
written discourse,  and  we  do  not 
know  of  any  better  one.  "In  his 
studies  and  preparation  for  the 
pulpit,  his  plan  was  to  fold  a  sheet 
of  paper  and  lay  it  on  his  writing 
desk,  and  then  commence  walking 
backward  and  forward  across  the 
room,  occasionally  stopping  to 
note  down  a  head  or  leading  sub- 
division of  his  thoughts,  leaving 
considerable  space  under  each 
note.  Ilaving  thus  arranged  the 
plan  of  his  discourse,  which  he 
called  'blazing  his  path,' borrow- 
ing a  figure  from  backwoods  life, 
he  then  proceeded  to  take  up 
each  head  and  subdivision  sepa- 
rately, and  amplify  it  in  his  mind, 
until  he  had  thought  his  whole 
discourse  through  and  through, 
stopping  occasionally,  as  before, 
16 


to  jot  down  a  word  or  thought, 
sometimes  a  sentence  or  an  illus- 
tration, under  each  division,  until 
he  had  finished.  Then  taking  up 
the  paper,  he  would  usually  con 
it  over  again  and  again,  now  blot- 
ting out,  now  adding  something. 
Thus  he  continued,  until  every 
part  of  the  discourse  was  satisfac- 
torily arranged  in  his  mind.  The 
notes  thus  prepared,  he  usually 
took  with  hiui  into  the  pulpit, 
but  he  rarely  had  occasion  even 
to  glance  at  them.  He  used  to 
remark,  '  I  try  to  get  the  thoughts 
fully  into  my  mind,  and  leave  the 
language,  generally,  to  the  oc- 
casion.' " — Pi:eshyteijian  Quak- 
TEP.LY  Review,  March,  1853. 

The  importance  of  an  early 
heginning,  as  well  as  of  a  constant 
practice,  in  order  to  extempo- 
raneous speaking,  is  illustrated 
by  the  following  remark  of  Mr. 
Clay,  to  the   studeuts  of  a  law 


242  HOMILETICS. 

course  of  time,  he  will  find  tliat  it  is  becomiuo;  a 
pleasant  process,  and  is  exerting  a  most  favorable 
influence  upon  his  written  sermons,  and,  indeed,  upon 
his  w^hole  professional  character.  In  each  week, 
he  should  regularly  preach  one  written  sermon,  and 
one  unwritten  sermon,  to  "  the  crreat  cono:reo;ation." 
If  the  preacher  must  be  confined  to  but  one  kind  of 
discourse,  then  he  should  write.  No  man  could 
meet  the  wants  of  an  intelligent  audience,  year  after 
year,  who  should  always  deliver  unwritten  dis- 
courses. But  the  clergy  would  be  a  more  able  and 
influential  body  of  public  teachers,  if  the  two 
species  of  sermonizing  were  ftiithfully  employed  by 
them.  The  vie^or  and  force  of  the  unwritten  sei-mon 
would  pass  over  into  the  written,  and  render  it 
more  impressive  and  powerful  than  it  now  is,  while 
the  strict  method  and  finished  style  of  the  written 
discourse  would  pass  over  into  the  unwritten.  If 
the  young  clergyman  lays  down  this  rule  in  the  out- 
set, and  proceeds  upon  it,  it  is  safe  to  ]3rophesy  a 
successful  career  of  extemporaneous  preaching,  in 
his  case.     But  if  he  does  not  lay  it  down  in  the  very 

school:  "I  owe  my  success  in  life,  quently   ia    some    distant    beam, 

to  one  single  fact,  namely,  that  at  with  the  horse  and  the  ox  for  my 

the  age  of  twenty-seven,  I  com-  auditors.    It  is  to  this  early  prac- 

menced,  and  continued  for  yeara,  tice  of  the  great  art  of  all  arts, 

the  practice  of  daily  reading  and  that  I  am  indebted  for  the  pri- 

speaking  upon   the   contents   of  mary  and  leading  impulses  that 

some  historical  or  scientific  book,  stimulated  me  forward,  and  have 

These  off-hand  efforts  were  made  shaped  my  entire  subsequent  his- 

sometimes  in  a  corn-field,  at  oth-  tory." 
ers  in  the  forest,  and  not  unfre- 


EXTEMPORANEOUS   PREACHIIS'G.  243 

outset^  if  he  delays  until  a  more  convenient  season 
occurs  for  going  up  into  the  pulpit,  and  speaking 
without  a  manuscript,  then  it  is  almost  absolutely- 
certain,  that,  like  the  majority  of  his  associates  in 
the  ministry,  he  will  go  through  life,  never  deliver- 
ing a  really  excellent  extemporaneous  sermon. 

We  are  confident,  that  extemporaneous  preach- 
ing should  engage,  far  more  than  it  does,  the  labor 
and  study  of  the  clergy.  The  more  we  think  of  it, 
the  more  clearly  shall  we  see,  that,  as  a  species,  it 
comes  nearest  to  ideal  perfection.  It  is  a  \vn\\<^ 
utterance,  out  of  a  living  heart  and  intellect,  to  liv- 
ing excited  men,  through  no  medium  but  the  free 
air.  It  was  the  preaching  of  Christ  and  his  apos- 
tles, of  many  of  the  early  Fathers,  of  Luther  and  the 
Keformers.  And  whenever  any  great  movement 
has  been  produced,  either  in  Church  or  State,  it  has 
commonly  taken  its  rise,  so  far  as  human  agency  is 
concerned,  from  the  unwritten  words  of  some  man 
of  sound  knowledge,  and  thorough  discipline,  im- 
pelled to  speak  by  strong  feeling  in  his  heart. 

If  the  clergy  would  study  the  Bible  with  a 
closer  and  more  penetrating  exegesis,^  and  that 
theological  system  which  has  in  it  most  of  the  solid 
substance  of  the  Bible,  with  a  more   patient  and 

'  The    i-L-lation   of    cxegetical  t.Iie  revealed  ^Yo^a.     He  wlio  is 

study  to  extemporaneous  speak-  accustomed  to  read  a  Gospel,  or 

ing  deserves  a   separate   discus-  an  Epistle,  oivr,   and  over,   ami 

sion.     Nothing  is  more  certain  to  over  again,  in  the  original  Greek, 

make  a  fluent  and  ready  speaker,  becomes    so    saturated    witli    its 

than  the  analytic  examination  of  revelations,  that  ho  is  as  full  uf 


244  no]viiLETics. 

scientific  spirit;  if  they  would  lial)ituate  tlieir  intel- 
lects to  long  and  connected  trains  of  tliouglit,  and 
to  a  precise  use  of  language ;  then,  under  the  im- 
pulse of  even  no  higher  degree  of  piety  than  they 
now  possess,  greater  results  would  follow  from  their 
preaching.  When  the  clergy  shall  j)ursue  theologi- 
cal studies,  as  Melancthon  says  he  did,  for  personal 
sj^iritual  benefit ;  when  theological  science  shall  be 
wrought  into  the  very  soul,  inducing  a  theological 
mood ;  when  thorough  learning,  and  diligent  self- 
discipline,  shall  go  hand-in-hand  with  deep  love  for 
God  and  souls ;  and  when  the  clergy  shall  dare 
to  speak  to  the  people,  with  extemporaneous  bold- 
ness, out  of  a  full  heart,  full  head,  and  clear  mind, 
we  may  expect,  under  the  Divine  blessing,  to  see 
some  of  those  great  movements  which  characterized 
the  ages  of  extemjDore  preaching, — the  age  of  the 
Apostles,  the  age  of  the  Reformers,  the  age  of  John 
Knox  in  Scotland,  the  age  of  Wesley  and  Whitefield 
in  England  and  America. 

matter  as  Elilm  the  friend  of  Job,    perusal  will  not  have  this  effect, 
and  must  speak  that  he  may  be    but  ten  or  twenty  wiU. 
refreshed.    A  single  philological 


CHAPTER    X. 

THE  MATTER,  MANXER,  AND  SPIRIT  OP  PREACHING. 

The  exj)osition  of  the  methods,  and  maxims,  by 
whidi  liomiletical  discipline  may  best  be  acquired, 
demands,  at  its  conclusion,  some  consideration  of 
their  practical  application,  in  the  actual  work  of  the 
clerical  profession.  With  what  spirit  ought  the 
preacher  to  deliver  his  message?  what  should  be 
its  main  drift,  and  lesson  ?  how  should  the  manner 
of  his  utterance  compare  with  that  of  other  pro- 
fessions ?  These  are  some  of  the  questions,  upon  the 
right  answer  to  which,  depends  very  greatly  the 
success  of  the  clergyman.  For,  though  his  theory 
of  Sacred  Eloquence  may  be  high,  and  true,  yet  a 
false  spirit  carried  into  his  w^ork,  will  vitiate  all  his 
science,  and  bring  him  short  of  his  ideals.  Ilis  great 
work,  is  to  speak  to  the  popular  mind,  ujdou  the 
subject  of  religion,  with  a  view  to  influence  it,  and, 
therefore,  his  oratorical  efforts  ought  to  be  marked 
by  that  practical,  and,  so  to  speak,  business-like 
manner,  which  is  seen  in  the  children  of  this  world, 
who,  in  their  generation,  are  oftentimes  wdser  than 


246  HOMILETICS. 

the  children  of  light.  The  preacher  has  much  to 
learn,  from  the  legal  profession.  A  lawyer  goes 
into  the  court-room,  in  order  to  establish  certain 
facts,  and  impress  certain  legal  truths  upon  twelve 
men  in  the  jury-box.  He  is,  generally,  an  earnest 
and  direct  man.  He  may  be  somewhat  diffuse  and 
circuitous  in  his  representations,  but  it  will  be 
found,  that,  in  the  end,  he  comes  round  to  his  case, 
and  makes  every  thing  bear  upon  the  verdict  which 
he  desires.  In  like  manner,  the  Christian  minister 
is  to  go  into  the  pulpit,  in  order  to  establish  certain 
facts  in  regard  to  God  and  man,  and  to  impress  cer- 
tain religious  truths  upon  all  who  come  to  hear 
him.  He,  too,  ought  to  be  marked  by  great  energy 
and  simplicity  of  aim.  He  should  start  upon  his 
professional  careei',  with  a  true  and  positive  concep- 
tion of  the  work  before  him.  The  theme,  then,  is 
a  wide  one,  and  in  order  to  convey  the  particular 
thoughts  which  we  would  present,  in  the  briefest 
and  most  concise  manner  possible,  we  propose  to 
speak  of  the  tnatter^  the  manner^  and  the  spirit  of 
preaching. 

1.  In  respect  to  the  matter,  the  ideas  and  truths, 
which  the  preacher  shall  bring  before  the  popular 
mind,  during  the  ten,  twenty,  or  forty  years  in  which 
he  may  address  it,  we  affirm  that  he  ought  to  con- 
fine himself  to  evangelical  doctrine.  If  he  is  to  err 
in  regard  to  the  range  of  subjects,  let  him  err  upon 
the  safe  side.  It  is  undesirable,  and  unwise,  for  the 
pulpit  to  comf)rehend  any  thing  more  in  its  iustruc- 


SIATTEE   AND   JIANNEE   OF   PEE  ACHING.  247 

tioiis,  than  that  range  of  inspired  truth  which  has 
for  its  object  the  salvation  of  the  human  soul.  It 
is  true,  that  Christianity  has  a  connection  with  all 
truth;  and  so  has  astronomy.  But  it  no  more 
follows,  that  the  Christian  minister  should  go  be- 
yond the  fundamental  principles  of  the  gospel,  and 
discuss  all  of  their  relations  to  science,  art,  and 
government,  in  his  Sabbath  discourses,  than  that 
the  astronomer  should  leave  his  appropriate  field 
of  observation,  and  attempt  to  be  equally  perfect  in 
all  that  can  be  logically  connected  ^vith  astronomy. 
Life  is  short,  and  art  is  long.  In  the  secular  sj^here, 
it  is  conceded  that  the  j^owerful  minds  are  those 
who  rigorously  confine  themselves  to  one  depart- 
ment of  thought.  Newton  cultivated  science,  and 
neglected  literature.  Kant  wrought  in  the  quick- 
silver mines  of  metaphysics  for  fifty  years,  and  was 
happy  and  mighty  in  his  one  work.  These  men 
made  epochs,  because  they  did  not  career  over  the 
whole  encyclopedia.  And  the  same  is  true  in  the 
sphere  of  religion.  The  giants  in  theology  have 
dared  to  let  many  books  go  unread,  that  they  might 
be  profoundly  versed  in  Revelation.  And  the 
mighty  men  in  practical  religion,  the  reformers,  the 
missionaries,  the  preachers,  have  found  iu  the  dis- 
tinctively evangelical  elements  of  Christianity,  and 
their  application  to  the  individual  soul,  enough,  and 
more  than  enough,  to  employ  all  their  powers  and 
enthusiasm. 

The  Christian  minister  is  not  oblio-ated  to  run 


248  noMiLETics, 

out  Christianity  into  all  its  connections  and  rela- 
tions. Neither  he,  nor  the  Church,  is  bound  to 
watch  over  all  the  special  interests  of  social,  literary, 
23olitical,  and  economical  life.  Something  should 
be  left  to  other  men,  and  other  professions;  and 
something  should  be  left  to  the  providence  of  God. 
The  Christian  preacher  can  do  more  towards 
promoting  the  earthly  and  temporal  interests  of 
mankind,  by  indirection,  than  by  direct  efforts. 
That  minister  who  limits  himself,  in  his  Sabbath 
discourses,  to  the  exhibition  and  enforcement  of 
the  doctrines  of  sin  and  grace,  and  whose  preaching 
results  in  the  actual  conversion  of  human  beins-s, 
contributes  far  more,  in  the  long  run,  to  the  progress 
of  society,  literature,  art,  science,  and  civilization, 
than  he  does,  who,  neglecting  these  themes  of  sin 
and  grace,  makes  a  direct  effort  from  the  pulpit  to 
"  elevate  society."  In  respect  to  the  secular  and 
temporal  benefits  of  the  Christian  religion,  it  is  emi- 
nently true,  that  he  that  finds  his  life  shall  lose  it. 
When  the  ministry  sink  all  other  themes  in  the  one 
theme  of  the  Cross,  they  are  rewarded  in  a  twofold 
manner :  they  see  the  soul  of  man  born  into  the 
kingdom  of  God  ;  and  then,  as  an  inevitable  conse- 
quence, with  which  they  had  little  to  do  directly, 
but  which  is  taken  care  of  by  the  providence  of 
God,  and  the  laws  by  which  He  administers  hia 
government  in  the  earth,  they  also  see  arts,  sciences, 
trade,  commerce,  and  political  prosperity,  flowing  in 
of  themselves.      They  are  willing  to  seek  first  the 


MATTER   AND   JIANI^R   OF   PEEACHnTG.  249 

kingdom  of  God  and  his  righteousness,  and  find  all 
these  minor  things, — infinitely  minor  things,  when 
compared  with  the  eternal  destiny  of  man, — added 
to  them  by  the  operation,  not  of  the  pulpit,  or  of 
the  ministry,  but  of  Divine  laws  and  Divine  provi- 
dence. But,  whenever  the  ministry  sink  the  Cross, 
wholly  or  in  part,  in  semi-religious  themes,  they  are 
rewarded  with  nothing.  They  see,  as  the  fruit  of 
their  labors,  neither  the  conversion  of  the  individual 
nor  the  prosperity  of  society.  That  unearthly  ser- 
monizing of  Baxter,  and  Howe,  so  abstracted  from 
all  the  temporal  and  secular  interests  of  man,  so 
rigorously  confined  to  human  guilt  and  human  re- 
demption,— that  preaching  which,  upon  the  face  of 
it,  does  not  seem  even  to  recosrnize  that  man  has 
any  relations  to  this  little  ball  of  earth;  w^hich 
takes  him  off  the  planet  entirely,  and  contemj^lates 
him  simply  as  a  sinner  in  the  presence  of  God, — 
that  preaching,  so  destitute  of  all  literary,  scientific, 
economical,  and  political  elements  and  allusions, — 
was,  nevertheless,  by  indirection,  one  of  the  most 
fertile  causes  of  the  progress  of  England  and  Ame- 
rica. Subtract  it  as  one  of  the  forces  of  English 
history,  and  the  career  of  the  Anglo-Saxon  race 
would  be  like  that  of  Italy  and  Spain. 

The  preacher  must  dare  to  work  upon  this 
theory,  and  make  and  keej^  his  sermons  thoroughly 
evangelical,  in  their  substantial  matter.  The  temp- 
tations are  many,  in  the  j^resent  age,  to  multiply 
topics,  and  to  introduce  themes   into    the   pulpit. 


250  nOMILETICS. 

upon  wLicli  Clirisfc  aud  Lis  apostles  never  preacliecL 
It  is  enougli  tliat  tlie  disciple  be  as  his  master.  Aud 
if  the  Son  of  God,  possessing  an  infinite  intelli- 
gence, and  capable  of  comprehending,  in  his  intui- 
tion, the  whole  abyss  of  truth,  physical  and  moral, 
natural  religion  and  revealed,  all  art,  all  science,  all 
beauty,  and  all  grandeur, — if  the  Son  of  Grod,  the 
Omniscient  One,  was  nevertheless  reticent  regard- 
ing the  vast  universe  of  truth  that  lay  outside  of  the 
Christian  scheme,  and  confined  himself  to  that  range 
of  ideas  which  relate  to  sin  and  redemption,— then, 
who  are  we  that  we  should  venture  beyond  his 
limits,  and  counteract  his  example  ! 

2.  Secondly,  in  respect  to  the  manner  in  which 
the  preacher  is  to  address  the  popular  mind,  upon 
these  fundamental  truths  of  Christianity,  he  ought 
to  use  great  directness  of  style  and  speech.  The 
connection  between  the  matter  and  the  manner  of  a 
writer,  is  one  of  action  and  reaction.  Clear,  evan- 
gelical ideas  favor  lucid,  earnest  style.  He  ^7ho 
selects  semi-religious  topics,  immediately  begins  to 
hyperbolize  and  elocutionize.  No  Demosthenean 
fire,  no  hearty  idiomatic  English,  no  union  of  energy 
and  elegance,  naturally  issues  when  poetry  is  sub- 
stituted for  theology,  and  the  truths  of  nature  are 
put  in  the  place  of  the  doctrines  of  grace.  A  lan- 
guid and  diftuse  manner,  like  that  of  moral  essays, 
is  the  utmost  that  can  be  attained  upon  this 
method. 

And,  on  the  other  hand,  a  tendency  to  a  direct, 


MATTER   AOT)   JIANKER   OF  PREACHING.  251 

terse,  vigorous  mode  of  handling  subjects,  reacts 
upon  tlie  theological  opinions  of  the  preacher,  and 
favors  intensity  and  positiveness  in  his  doctrinal 
views.  Wordsworth,  in  conversing  upon  the  style 
of  a  certain  writer,  which  was  peculiar  and  striking, 
remarked :  "  To  be  sure,  it  is  the  manner  that  gives 
him  his  power,  but  then,  you  know,  the  matter 
always  comes  out  of  the  manner."^  This  is  revers- 
ino-  the  common  statement- of  the  rhetorician,  who 
is  in  the  habit  of  saying,  that  the  manner  comes 
out  of  the  matter.  But  it  contains  its  side  of  truth. 
No  man  can  cultivate  and  employ  a  vigorous, 
dii-ect,  and  forcible  rhetoric,  without  finding  that 
he  is  driven  to  solid  and  earnest  themes,  in  order 
to  oridnate,  and  sustain  it.  Those  slender  and 
unsuo-o«estive  truths  which  lie  outside  of  revelation, 
and  which  relate  more  to  man's  earthly  than  to  his 
immortal  nature,  more  to  his  worldly  than  his  eter- 
nal destiny,  prove  too  weak  for  a  powerful  and 
commanding  eloquence,  and,  thus,  the  rhetorician 
of  an  earnest  and  natural  type  is  driven  by  his 
very  idea  of  style,  to  those  themes  of  sin,  guilt, 
judgment,  atonement,  grace,  and  eternal  glory, 
which  constitute  the  substance  of  Christianity,  and 
are  full  of  immortal  vigor  and  power. 

As  the  preacher  goes  forth,  to  speak,  it  may  be 
for  twenty  or  forty  years  continuously,  to  his  fellow 
immortals,  upon  the  awful  tliemcs  of  eternity,  let 

*  Emerson:  English  Traits,  p.  294. 


252  HoaiiLETics. 

liim  weigli  well  every  word  lie  utters,  and  make  it 
tlie  direct  exponent  of  a  vivid  and  earnest  thonglit. 
He  lives  in  an  age  more  inclined  to  sentiment,  than 
to  ideas.  The  vicious  and  meretricious  manner  of 
the  fugitive  magazine,  and  review,  is,  just  now,  influ- 
encing the  public  taste,  more  than  the  dense  and 
powerful  style  of  the  classical  standards.  Let  hioi 
pay  special  attention,  therefore,  to  his  own  manner. 
He  should  be  a  plain,  direct,  terse,  and  bold  orator. 
He  must  employ  the  rhetoric  which  Jael  used  upon 
Sisera,  j)utting  his  nail  to  the  liead  of  his  auditor, 
and  driving  it  sheer  and  clear  through  his  brain. 

3.  And,  finally,  in  respect  to  the  spirit  with 
which  the  preacher  should  deliver  his  ideas,  we 
sum  up  all  that  can  be  said  upon  this  point,  when 
we  urge  him  to  speak  the  truth  in  love.  An  affec- 
tionate spirit  is  the  type,  and  the  model,  for  the 
Christian  herald.  The  greatest  of  the  graces  is 
charity.  This  we  are  toiling  after  all  our  days,  and 
this  comes  latest  and  slowest  into  the  soul.  If 
those  who  have  preached  the  word  for  years  were 
called  upon  to  specify  the  one  particular,  in  respect 
to  which  they  would  have  their  ministry  recon- 
structed, it  would  be  their  deficienc}^  in  this  mellow, 
winning,  heavenly  trait  of  St.  John.  Perhaps  they 
can  say  that  they  have  been  measurably  positive, 
earnest,  plain,  and  truthful  preachers;  but,  alas! 
they  cannot  be  so  certain  in  their  affirmation,  that 
they  have  been  affectionate  heralds  of  the  Lord 
Jesus.     Their  love  for  God's  honor  and  glory,  and 


MATTER   AND   MAKNER   OF  PREACniNG.  253 

tte  welfare  of  the  human  soul,  Las  been  too  fiiint 
and  feeble.  This  is  the  weak,  and  not  the  strong 
side  of  their  service  in  the  pulj^it. 

It  is  well  for  the  clergyman,  to  know  this  in  the 
outset  of  his  ministry,  so  that  his  efforts  may  be 
directed  accordingly.  Tliat  trait  in  which  the 
human  soul  is  most  deficient,  because  it  is  most 
directly  contrary  to  human  selfishness, — that  Chris- 
tian trait  which  is  the  most  difficult,  both  to  origi- 
nate and  to  maintain, — is,  certainly,  the  one  that 
should  be  before  the  eye  of  the  Christian  minister, 
from  the  beginning  of  his  course.  Other  traits, 
unless  toned  down  by  this  one,  are  liable  to  run 
into  extremes  that  become  positive  faults.  The 
preacher's  lucid  energy,  for  example,  unless  tem- 
pered by  a  tender  affectionateness,  may  issue  in  an 
exasperating  vehemence  that  defeats  all  the  ends  of 
preaching,  and  renders  it  impossible  to  "  persuade  " 
men  to  become  reconciled  to  God,  or  even  to  "  be- 
seech "  them  to  become  so. 

The  preacher,  then,  must  cultivate  in  himself, 
a  genuine  and  sincere  affection  for  man  as  man,  for 
man  as  sinful  and  lost,  and  for  God  as  the  blessed 
and  adorable  Saviour  of  man.  And,  among  the 
several  means  of  educating  himself  in  this  direction, 
none  is  more  effectual,  than  that  strict  confinement 
of  his  mind  and  heart  to  evangelical  themes,  v/hich 
we  have  already  recommended.  If  he  would  feel 
love  for  man's  soul,  he  must  distinctly  see  how  pre- 
cious  the  soul  is  by  its  origin,  and  how  deeply 


254  nojnLETTCs. 

■WTetcLed  and  lost  it  is  by  its  sin.  If  lie  w(?uld  feel 
love  towards  God  as  tlie  Kedeemer  of  man,  lie  must 
distinctly  see  how  great  a  self-sacrifice  He  lias 
made,  in  order  to  tlie  remission  and  removal  of 
man's  sin.  If  sucli  topics  as  these  are  the  infre- 
quent themes  of  his  study  and  sermonizing, — if 
they  are  crowded  out  by  other  topics,  which  have 
no  direct  tendency  to  fill  him  with  tender  emotions 
in  reference  to  God  and  man,  but,  on  the  contrary, 
puff  up  with  pride,  or  j)erhaps  lead  to  an  undervalu- 
ation of  evangelical  doctrine, — then,  he  cannot  be 
an  affectionate  preacher.  He  will  never  be  able 
to  say,  as  St.  Paul  did  of  himself,  in  reference  to 
the  Thessaloniaus :  "  We  were  gentle  among  you, 
even  as  a  nurse  cherisheth  her  children :  so,  being 
affectionately  desirous  of  you,  we  were  willing  to 
have  imparted  unto  you,  not  the  gospel  of  God 
only,  but  also  our  own  souls,  because  ye  were  dear 
unto  us."^ 

Of  all  the  New  Testament  truths,  none  is  equal 
to  the  doctrine  of  forgiveness  through  the  blood  of 
the  dying  Lord,  in  eliciting  this  divine  and  holy 
love.  And  therefore  the  preacher's  meditation 
must  be  much  upon  this,  and  his  speech  veiy  fre- 
quent upon  it.  The  Komau  Catholic  theologians, 
in  their  classification  of  the  gifts  and  graces  of  the 
believer,  mention  the  donum  laclirymarum,  the 
heavenly  gift  of   tears.      By  it,  they  mean,  that 

'  1  Thess.  ii,  7,  8. 


MATTER   AND   MANN^ER    OF   PREACHING.  255 

tender  contrition  of  soul  wliicli  weeps  bitterly,  like 
Peter,  under  the  poignant  recollection  of  transgres- 
sion, and  the  sweet  sense  of  its  forgiveness.  It  is 
that  free  and  outgushiug  sorrow,  which  flows  from 
the  strange  unearthly  consciousness  of  being  yile, 
when  tried  by  a  perfect  standard,  and  yet,  of  being 
the  justified  and  adopted  child  of  God.  It  is  that 
relief  which  a  Christian  man  craves  for  himself, 
when,  after  much  meditation  upon  his  sin,  he  still 
finds  the  heart  is  hard,  and  the  soul  is  parched  with 
inward  heat  that  "  turns  the  moisture  into  the 
drought  of  summer."  This  gift  of  tears  is  most 
intimately  connected  with  the  gift  of  love.  From 
that  soul  which  is  forgiven  much,  and  whose  con- 
sciousness of  the  Divine  mercy  flows  in  the  tears  of 
the  Magdalen,  there  issues  a  most  profound  affec- 
tion. We  love  the  soul  of  man,  and  are  willing  to 
toil  and  suffer  for  its  welfare,  when  we  are  melted 
down  in  gratitude  and  affection,  because  we  have 
ourselves  been  forgiven. 

If,  therefore,  the  Christian  preacher  would  suf- 
fuse his  thoughts  with  that  yearning  charity  which 
St.  Paul  describes,  let  him  live  in  the  light  of  the 
Cross;  let  him  feel  the  virtue  of  expiating  blood 
in  liis  conscience.  The  immediate  intuition  of  the 
great  Atonement,  arms  the  j^reacher  with  a  wonder- 
ful tenderness  and  power  of  entreaty.  Otlier  doc- 
trines are  powcri'ul,  but  this  carries  him  beyond 
himself,  and  fills  him  with  a  deathless  affection  for 
God,  and  the  soul  of   man,  that   seems   madness 


250  HOMTLETICS. 

itself  to  tlie  natural  mind.  "Whitefield's,  Summer- 
field's,  and  McCheyne's  glowing,  and  seraj)liic  fer- 
vor, was  inspired  almost  wholly  by  this  single 
truth.  And  what  a  pathetic  earnestness,  what  a 
tender  and  gentle  sympathy,  ever  mingled  with  the 
strong  flood-tide  of  Chalmers'  emotion,  after  that 
memorable  sickness,  when  he  sat  for  weeks  upoli 
the  brink  of  eternity,  and  there,  in  the  face  of  end- 
less doom  and  death,  obtained  the  first  clear,  calm- 
ing view  of  his  dying  Kedeemer. 

The  age  and  condition  of  the  world  demand 
ministers  of  this  type.  The  preacher  of  this  age  is 
appointed  to  proclaim  the  gospel,  at  a  period,  when 
the  Christian  religion  and  church  are  assailed  by 
materialism  in  the  masses,  and  skepticism  in  the 
cultivated.  These  are  the  two  foes  of  Christ,  whose 
presence  he  will  feel  wherever  he  goes.  He  will 
meet  them  in  Christendom,  and  he  will  meet  them 
in  Paganism.  It  looks,  now,  as  if  Anti-Christ  were 
making  his  final  onset.  Let  him,  therefore,  adopt  a 
positive  method.  He  should  not  waste  his  strength, 
in  standing  upon  the  defensive.  Christianity  is 
not  so  much  in  need  of  apologetic,  as  of  aggressive 
efforts.  State  its  doctrines  with  plainness,  and  they 
will  hold  their  ground.  Fuse  them  in  the  fire  of 
personal  convictions,  and  utter  them  with  the  con 
fidence  of  an  immediate  perception,  and  they  will 
not  need  the  support  of  collateral  argument.  They 
are  their  own  evidence,  when  once  enunciated,  and 


MATTER  AND   MANNER   OF  PREACHING.  257 

lodged  in  the  conscience  of  man ;  as  mucli  so,  as 
the  axioms  of  science. 

The  Christian  herald  should  go  forth  with  faith 
and  hope,  remembering  that  the  gospel  of  the  Son 
of  God  is  the  only  system  that  is  not  subject  to 
fashions,  and  changes.     It  is  tlie  same  now,  that  it 
was  when  St.  Paul  carried  it  to  Athens,  and  St. 
John  taught  it  in  Ephesus.     It  will  be  the  same 
system  down  to  the  end  of  the  world.     He  is  to  be 
a  co-worker  with  a  mighty  host  in  the  rear,  and 
another  mighty  host  in  the  front.     Why  should  he 
not  be  courageous,  standing,  as  he  does,  in  the  cen- 
tre of  a  solid  column,  whose  ranks  are  closed  up, 
and  which  presents  an  impregnable  front  from  what- 
ever side  the  foe  may  approach  ?     And  why  should 
he  not  be  the  boldest,  and  most  commanding  of 
orators,  wheu  he  remembers,  still  more,  that  the 
gospel  of  the  Son  of  God  is  the  only  system  of  truth, 
for  whose  triumph  the  Eternal  One  is  pledged? 
He  hath  sworn  by  Himself,  and  the  word  has  gone 
out  of  his  mouth  in  righteousness,  and  shall  not 
return  :  "  Unto  Him  every  knee  shall  bow  " 
17 


CHAPTER    XI. 

EECIPROCAL  EELATIONS  OF  PREACHER  AND  HEARER. 

The  orator  is  not  an  isolated  person,  but  one 
who  stands  in  living  sensitive  rapport  with,  an  audi- 
tory, and  therefore  the  discussion  of  the  subject  of 
Eloquence  cannot  be  regarded  as  com23lete,  without 
some  account  of  the  mutual  relations  of  the  par- 
ties. And  there  is  more  need  of  this  exposition  in 
reference  to  sacred,  than  to  secular  oratory,  because, 
one  whole  side  of  the  message  which  the  Christian 
herald  carries  to  man,  is  unwelcome.  He  must 
preach  the  condemning  law,  and  present  the  severe 
aspects  of  truth.  This  renders  it  more  difficult  for 
him,  to  establish  a  harmonious  relation  between 
himself  and  his  audience,  than  it  is  for  the  secular 
orator.  The  difficulty  in  the  case  will  be  most 
easily  overcome,  if  both  speaker  and  hearer  have  a 
clear  understanding  of  the  attitude,  which  each  is 
morally  bound  to  take  towards  the  other.  "  Preach 
the  preaching  that  I  bid  thee,"  is  God's  explicit 
command  to  the  herald.  "  Take  heed  how  ye 
hear,"  is  His  solemn  messai^e  to  the  congregation. 


PEEACHER  AND  HEAEEK.  259 

Both  parties  must  liear  the  message,  and  endeavor 
to  come  into  right  relations  to  each  other,  if  they 
would  receive  the  Divine  blessing.  "For,"  says 
Richard  Baxter,  "  we  bring  not  sermons  to  church, 
as  we  do  a  corpse  for  a  burial.  If  there  be  life  in 
tliem,  and  life  in  the  hearers,  the  connaturality  will 
cause  such  an  amicable  closure,  that  through  the 
reception,  retention,  and  operation  of  the  soul,  they 
will  be  the  immortal  seed  of  a  life  everlasting."^ 
This  passage,  from  one  of  the  most  fervid  and  effec- 
tive of  preachers,  gives  the  clue  to  Christian  elo- 
quence. Life  in  the  preacher,  and  life  in  the  hearer, 
— vitality  upon  both  sides, — this,  under  God,  is  the 
open  secret  of  successful  speech. 

For,  the  relation  which  properly  exists  between 
the  Christian  j^reacher,  and  the  Christian  hearer,  is 
a  reciprocal  one,  or  that  of  action  and  reaction. 
Yet  it  is  too  commonly  supposed,  that  eloquence 
depends  solely  upon  the  speaker ;  that  the  hearer  is 
only  a  passive  suTjject,  and,  as  such,  is  merely  to 
absorb  into  himself  a  mighty  and  powerful  influ- 
ence, that  flows  out  from  the  soul  of  the  orator, 
who,  alone,  is  the  active  and  passionate  agent  in 
the  process.  It  will  be  found,  however,  upon 
closer  examination,  that  eloquence,  in  its  highest 
forms  and  effects,  is  a  joint  product  of  two  factors ; 
of  an  eloquent  speaker,  and  an  eloquent  hearer. 
Burning  words  presupjiose  some  fuel  in  the  souls  to 

'  Baxteu:  Sermon  on  Christ's  absolute  dominioo.  (Preface.) 


2  GO  nOMILETICS. 

whom  tliey  are  addressed.  The  thrill  of  the  orator, 
however  exquisite,  cannot  traverse  a  torpid  or  para- 
lyzed nerve,  in  the  auditor.  It  is  necessary,  there- 
fore, as  all  the  rhetoricians  have  said,  in  order  to 
the  highest  effect  of  human  speech,  that  the  audi- 
tor he  in  a  state  of  ^preparation  and  recipiency ;  that 
there  be  an  answering  chord,  in  the  mass  of  minds, 
before  whom  the  single  solitary  individual  comes 
forth,  with  words  of  warning  or  of  consolation,  of 
terror  or  of  joy. 

It  follows,  consequently,  that  if  there  be  a  true 
tone  in  preaching,  there  is  also  a  true  temper  in 
hearing.  If  it  is  incumbent  upon  the  sacred  minis- 
try, to  train  itself  to  a  certain  style  of  thinking 
and  utterance,  it  is  equally  incumbent  UjDon  the 
sacred  auditory,  to  school  itself  into  the  correspond- 
ing mood  ;  so  that  its  mental  attitude,  its  pre-judg- 
ments, its  intellectual  convictions,  its  well-weighed 
fears  and  forebodings,  shall  all  be,  as  it  were,  a 
fluid  sea,  along  which  the  surging  mind  of  the  pub- 
lic teacher  shall  roll  its  billows.  What,  then,  is 
the  true  tone  in  preaching,  and  what  is  the  true 
temper  in  hearing,  religious  truth  ? 

The  Divine  interrogatory,  "  Is  not  my  word  like 
as  a  iire?"^  suggests  the  true  tone,  which  should  at 
all  times  characterize  public  religious  address  to 
the  natural  man ;  and  the  decided  utterance  of  the 
Psalmist,  "  Let  the  righteous  smite  me,  it  shall  be  a 

'  Jeremiah  xxiii.  29. 


PREACHER   Ai^D   HEARER.  261 

kindness,"^  on  tlie  other  hand,  indicates  the  temper 
which  the  public  mind  should  maintain,  in  reference 
to  such  a  species  of  address.  From  the  voice  of 
God,  speaking  through  the  most  shrinking,  yet  the 
most  impassioned  of  his  prophets ;  from  the  voice 
of  God,  emitted  from  the  deepest,  clearest,  widest 
religious  experience  under  the  old  economy,  we 
would  get  our  answer.  The  purjoose,  then,  of  this 
chapter  will  be  to  specify,  in  the  first  place,  some 
distinctively  Biblical  views  of  truth,  that  are  exceed- 
ingly intense  in  their  quality,  and  penetrating  in 
their  influence,  and  should,  therefore,  enter  as  con- 
stituent elements  into  preaching ;  and,  in  the  second. 
j)lace,  to  indicate  the  proper  attitude  of  the  popular 
mind,  towards  such  preaching. 

I.  The  prophet  Jeremiah,  in  the  well-known 
interrogatory  to  which  we  have  alluded,  directs 
attention  to  those  elements  in  Kevelation,  which  are 
adapted  to  2:)roduce  a  keen  and  pungent  sensation, 
like  fire,  whenever  they  are  brought  into  contact 
with  the  individual  or  the  general  mind.  Just  in 
proportion,  consequently,  as  public  address  upon 
religious  themes  emits  this  subtle  and  penetrating 
radiance,  because  the  preacher  has  inhaled,  the 
vehement  and  fiery  temper  of  the  Scriptures,  re- 
specting a  certain  class  of  subjects,  will  it  speak 
to  men  with  an  emphasis  that  will  startle  them, 
and  hinder  them  from  sleep. 

'  Psalm  cxli.  5. 


262  noMiLETics. 

1.  Commencing  tlie  analysis,  then,  we  find  these 
elements  of  force  and  of  fire,  in  the  Biblical  re2> 
resentation  of  God  as  an  emotional  persoUj  or,  in 
Scripture  phrase,  as  the  "  living  God." 

And  here,  we  shall  j^ass  by  all  those  more  gen- 
eral aspects  of  the  Divine  personality,  which  have 
been  abundantly  brought  to  view,  in  the  recent 
and  still  existing  contest  between  theism  and  pan- 
theism, and  confine  ourselves  to  a  notice  of  those 
more  specific  qualities,  which  have  been  somewhat 
overlooked  in  this  controversy,  and  which  constitute 
the  core,  and  life,  of  the  personal  character  of  God. 
For,  the  Biblical  representation  of  the  Deity  not 
merely  excludes  all  those  conceptions  of  him,  which 
convert  him  into  a  Gnostic  abyss,  and  place  him  in 
such  unrevealed  depths,  that  he  ceases  to  be  an 
object  of  either  love  or  fear,  but  it  clothes  him 
with  what  may  be  called  individuality  of  emotion, 
or  feeling.  Bevelation  is  not  content  with  that 
inadequate  and  frigid  form  of  theism,  that  deism, 
which  merely  asserts  the  Divine  existence  and  unity, 
with  the  fewest  predicates  possible,  but  it  enun- 
ciates the  whole  plenitude  of  the  Divine  Nature, 
upon  the  side  of  the  affections^  as  well  as  of  the 
understandino;.  When  the  Bible  denominates  the 
Supreme  Being  the  "  living  God,"  it  has  in  view 
that  blending  of  thought  with  emotion,  that  fusion 
of  intellect  with  feeling,  which  renders  the  Divine 
Essence  a  throbbino;  centre  of  self-consciousness. 
For,  subtract  emotion  from  the  Godhead,  and  there 


PEEACnEE   AIS'D   HEAEEE.  263 

remains   merely   an  abstract  system  of  laws  and 
triitlis.     Subtract  the  intellect,  and  tliere  remains 
tlie  mystic  and  dreamy  deity  of  sentimentalism.     In 
the  Scriptures,  we  find  the  union  of  both  elements. 
According  to  the  Bible,  God  possesses  emotions. 
He  loves,  and  he  abhors.     The  Old  and  New  Testa- 
ments are  vivid  as  lightning,  with  the  feelings  of 
the  Deity.     And  these   feelings  flash  out   in  the 
direct,  unambiguous  statement   of    the   Psalmist: 
"  God   loveth  the   righteous ;    God  is  angry  with 
the   wicked   every   day;"    in   the   winning  words 
of  St.   John,  "God  is  love,"  and  in  the  terrible 
accents  of  St.  Paul,    "Our   God   is   a   consuming 
fire."       Complacency   and    displeasure,    then,    are 
the   two   specific   characteristics,   in   which  reside 
all  the  vitality  of  the  doctrine  that  God  is  personal. 
These  are  the  most  purely  individual  qualities  that 
can  be  conceived  of.     They  are  continually  attrib- 
uted to  the  Supreme  Being,  in  the  Scriptures,  and 
every  rational  spirit  is  represented  as  destined  for- 
ever to  feel  the  impression  of  the  one,  or  the  other, 
of  them,  according  as  its  own  inward  appetences 
and  adaptations   shall  be.      While,  therefore,  the 
other  truths  that  enter  into  Christian  theism  are  to 
be  stated,  and  defended,  in  the  great  debate,  the 
philosopher  and  theologian  must  look  with  a  lynx's 
eye,  at  these  emotional  elements  in  the  Divine  Na- 
ture.    For  these,  so  to  speak,  are  the  living  points 
of  contact  between  the  Infinite  and  Finite;   and 
that  theory  of  the  Godhead  which  rejects  them,  or 


1^64  nojiiLETics. 

omits  them,  or  blunts  tliera,  will,  in  the  end,  itself 
succumb  to  naturalism  and  pantheism. 

There  are  no  two  positions  in  Revelation  more 
unqualified  and  categorical,  than  that"  God  is  love," 
and  that  "  God  is  a  consumino:  fire."  Either  one  of 
these  affirmations  is  as  true  as  the  other ;  and,  there- 
fore, the  complete  uumutilated  idea  of  the  Deity 
must  comprehend  both  the  love,  and  the  displeasure, 
in  their  harmony  and  reciprocal  relations.  Both  of 
these  feelings  are  equally  necessary  to  personality. 
A  being  who  cannot  love,  is  impersonal ;  and  so  is 
a  being  who  cannot  abhor.  Torpor  in  one  direc- 
tion implies  torpor  in  the  other.  "  He  who  loves 
the  good,"  argued  Lactantius  fifteen  centuries  ago, 
"  by  this  very  fact,  hates  the  evil ;  and  he  who  does 
not  hate  the  evil,  does  not  love  the  good  ;  because, 
the  love  of  goodness  flows  directly  out  of  the 
hatred  of  evil,  and  the  hatred  of  evil  springs 
directly  out  of  the  love  of  goodness.  There  is  no 
one  who  can  love  life,  without  abhorring  death ; 
no  one  who  has  an  appetency  for  light,  without  an 
antipathy  to  darkness."^  He  who  is  able  to  love 
that  wliich  is  lovely,  cannot  but  hate  that  which  is 
liateful.  One  class  of  emotions  towards  moral  good, 
implies  an  opposite  class  towards  moral  evil.  Every 
ethical  feeling  necessitates  its  counterpart ;  and 
therefore  God's  personal  love  towards  the  seraph, 
necessitates  God's  personal  wrath  towards  the  fiend. 

'  Laotantitjs,  De  ira  Dei,  c.     De  testimonio  animfo,  c.  2. 
5.    Compare  also  Teetulliands  : 


PREACHER   AND   HEARER.  2G5 

There  is,  therefore,  no  true  middle  positlou  Le- 
tween  the  full  Scriptural  conception  of  God,  and 
the  deistical  conception  of  him.  We  must  either, 
with  some  of  the  English  deists,  deny  both  love  and 
indignation  to  the  Deity,  or  else  we  must,  with  the 
pro})hets  and  apostles,  attribute  botli  love  and  in- 
dignation to  him.  Self-consistency  drives  us  to  one 
side  or  the  other.  We  may  hold  that  God  is  mere 
intellect,  without  heart,  and  without  feeling  of  any 
liind  ;  that  he  is  as  impassive,  and  unemotional  as 
the  law  of  gravitation,  or  a  georae-trical  axiom  ;  that 
lie  neither  loves  the  lioly,  nor  hates  the  wicked ; 
that  feeling,  in  short,  stands  in  no  kind  of  relation 
to  an  Infinite  Essence ;  or,  we  may  believe  that  tbe 
Divine  Nature  is  no  more  destitute  of  emotional, 
than  it  is  of  intellectual  qualities,  and  that  all  forms 
of  rio-hteous  and  leo-itimate  feelins:  enter  into  the 
Divine  self-consciousness, — we  may  take  one  side  or 
the  other,  and  we  shall  be  self-consistent.  But  it 
is  in  the  highest  degree  illogical  and  inconsistent, 
to  attribute  one  class  of  emotions  to  God,  and  deny 
the  other ;  to  postulate  the  love  of  goodness,  and 
repudiate  the  indignation  at  sin.  What  reason  is 
there,  in  attril)uting  the  feeling  of  comi^Licency  to 
the  nature  of  the  Infinite  and  Eternal,  and  denying 
the  existence  of  the  feeling  of  indignation,  as  so 
many  do,  in  this  and  every  age?  Is  it  said  that 
emotion  is  always,  and  of  necessity,  beneath  the 
Divine  Nature?  Then  why  insist,  and  emphasize, 
that  "  God  is  love  .^"     Is  it  said  that  wi-ath  is  an 


266  nOMELETICS. 

unworthy  feeling?  But  tliis,  like  love  itself,  de- 
pends upon  tlie  nature  of  the  object  upon  which  it 
is  expended?  What  species  of  feeling  ought  to 
possess  tlie  Holy  One,  when  he  looks  down  upon 
the  orgies  of  Tiberius  ?  when  he  sees  John  Baptist's 
head  in  the  charger  ?  Is  it  a  mere  illicit  and  un- 
worthy passion,  when  the  wrath  of  God  is  revealed 
from  heaven,  against  those  sins  mentioned  in  the 
first  chapter  of  Romans,  and  continually  practised 
by  mankind  1  And  may  not  love  be  an  unworthy 
feeling  ?  Is  not  this  emotion  as  capable  of  degen- 
erating into  a  blind  appetite,  into  a  mere  passion, 
as  any  other  one  ?  Which  is  most  august  and  ven- 
erable, the  pure  and  spiritual  abhorrence  of  the 
seraphim,  wakened  by  the  sight  of  the  sin  and 
uncleanness  of  fallen  Babylon,  or  the  selfish  fond- 
ness, and  guilty  weakness,  of  the  unprincipled  afiec- 
tion  of  earth  ?  Which  is  most  permeated  wdth 
eternal  truth  and  reason,  and  so  most  worthy  of 
entering  into  the  consciousness  of  a  Divine  and 
Supreme  Mind,  the  wrath  of  law,  or  the  love  of 
lust? 

So  the  Scriptures  rej^resent  the  matter;  and 
upon  the  preacher's  thorough  belief,  in  the  strict 
metaphysical  truth  of  this  Biblical  idea  of  God, 
and  his  solemn  recej)tion  of  it  into  his  mind,  in  all 
its  SGo^e  and  elements,  with  all  its  implications  and 
applications,  depends  his  power  and  energy  as  a 
religious  thinker  and  speaker.  He  must  see  for 
himself,  and  make  his  hearers  see,  that  God  is  just 


PEEACHER   AND   HEAEER.  2G7 

that  intensely  immaculate  Spirit,  botli  in  liis  com- 
placency and  liis  displeasure,  in  all  his  personal 
qualities,  and  on  botli  sides  of  his  character,  which 
Revelation  represents  him  to  be.  No  other  energy 
can  make  up  for  the  lack  of  this.  "With  this,  though 
his  tongue  may  stammer,  and  his  heart  often  fail 
him,  the  preacher  will  go  out  before  his  account- 
able, guilty,  dying  fellow-men,  with  a  spiritual 
power  that  cannot  be  resisted. 

For,  man's  mind  is  startled,  when  the  Divine 
individuality  thus  flashes  into  it,  with  these  distinct 
and  definite  emotions.  "I  thouQ-ht  of  God,  and 
was  troubled."  The  human  S2)int  trembles  to  its 
inmost  fibre,  when  God's  personal  character  darts 
its  dazzling  rays  into  its  darkness.  When  one 
realizes,  in  some  solemn  moment,  that  no  blind 
force  or  fate,  no  law  of  nature,  no  course  and  con- 
stitution of  things,  but  a  Being  as  distinctly  self- 
conscious  as  himself,  and  with  a  personality  as  vivid 
in  feeling  and  emotion  towards  right  and  wrong,  as 
his  own  identity,  has  made  him,  and  made  him  re- 
sponsible, and  will  call  him  to  account;  when  a 
man,  in  some  startling  but  salutary  passage  in  his 
ex^Dcrience,  becomes  aware  that  the  intelligent,  and 
the  emotional  I  am  is  penetrating  his  inmost  soul, 
he  is,  if  ever  upon  this  earth,  a  roused  man,  an 
earnest,  energized  creature.  All  men  know  how 
wonderfully  the  faculties  of  the  soul  are  quickened, 
when  it  comes  to  the  consciousness  of  o-uilt ;  what 
a  profound  and  central  activity  is  started  in  all  the 


268  HOMILETICa. 

mental  powers,  by  what  is  teclinically  termed  "  con- 
viction." But  this  conviction  is  the  simple  con- 
sciousness that  God  is  one  person,  and  man  is 
another.  Here  are  two  beings  met  together, — a 
holy  One,  with  infinite  and  judicial  attributes,  and  a 
guilty  one,  with  finite  and  res]3onsible  attributes, — 
the  two  are  in  direct  communication,  as  in  the 
garden  of  Eden,  and  hence  the  shame,  the  fear,  and 
the  attempt  to  hide. 

If,  however,  it  is  supposed  that  there  must  be 
some  abatement  and  qualification,  in  order  to  bring 
the  Biblical  representation  of  the  Deity  into  har- 
mony with  some  theory  in  the  head,  or  some  wish 
in  the  heart,  it  loses  its  incisive  and  truthful  power 
over  the  human  mind.  If  the  full-orbed  idea  be  so 
mutilated,  that  nothins:  but  the  feelinor  of  love  is 
allowed  to  enter  into  the  nature  of  God,  the  mind 
softens  and  melts  away  into  moral  imbecility.  If 
nothing  but  the  emotion  of  disj^leasure  makes  up 
the  character  of  the  Deity,  as  was  the  case  with 
the  sombre  and  terrible  Pagan  religions,  the  mind 
of  the  worshipper  is  first  overwhelmed  with  teiTor 
and  consternation,  and  finally  paralyzed  and  made 
callous  by  fear.  But,  if  both  feelings  are  seen 
necessarily  to 'coexist  in  one  and  tlie  same  Eternal 
Nature,  and  each  exercised  towards  its  appropriate 
and  deserving  object,  then  the  rational  spirit  adores 
and  burns  like  the  seraph,  and  bows  and  veils  the 
face  like  the  archano;el. 

2.  In  close  connection  with  the  doctrine  of  the 


PEEACHER   AKD   IIEA.EEE.  269 

living  Gocl,  tlie  Bible  teaches  the  doctrine  of  the 
giiiU  of  man  /  and  this  is  the  second  element  of 
force  and  fire,  alluded  to  l^y  tlie  j^rophet  in  his  in- 
terrogatory. 

We  have  ali^eady  noticed  the  close  affinity,  that 
exists  between  a  vivid  impression  of  the  Divine 
character,  and  the  conviction  of  sin.  When  that 
comparatively  pure  and  holy  man,  the  prophet 
Isaiah,  saw  the  Lord,  higli  and  lifted  up,  he  cried, 
"  I  am  a  man  of  unclean  lips."  And  just  in  propor- 
tion as  the  distinct  features  of  that  Divine  counte- 
nance f^ide  from  human  view,  does  the  guilt  of 
man  disappear.  But  here,  again,  as  in  the  prece- 
ding-instance of  the  Divine  emotions,  the  difficulty 
does  not  relate  so  much  to  the  bare  recognition  of 
the  fact,  as  to  the  deo-ree  and  thorous-hness  of  the 
reco2:nition.  We  have  observed  that  there  is  a 
natural  proneness  to  look  more  at  the  complacent, 
than  at  the  judicial  side  of  the  Divine  nature ;  to 
literalize  and  emphasize  the  love,  but  convert  the 
wrath  into  metaphor  and  hyperbole.  In  like  man- 
ner, there  is  a  tendency  to  extenuate  and  diminish 
the  degree  of  human  guilt,  even  when  the  general 
doctrine  is  acknowledged.  To  apprehend  and  con- 
fess our  sin  to  be  our  pure  self-will,  and  crime^  is 
very  difficult.  We  much  more  readily  acknowledge 
it  to  be  our  disease,  and  misfortune.  Between  the 
full  denial,  on  the  one  hand,  that  there  is  any  guilt 
in  man,  and  the  full  hearty  confession,  on  the  other, 
that  man  is  nothing  but  guilt  before  the  Searcher 


270  HOMILETICS. 

of  the  heart,  and  Eternal  Justice,  there  are  many 
defrrees  of  truth  and  error ;  and  it  is  with  reirard  to 
these  intermediates,  that  the  preacher  especially 
needs  the  representations  of  the  Bible.  It  is  by  the 
dalliance  with  the  shallows  of  the  subject,  that 
public  religious  address  is  shorn  of  its  strength. 

The  Scriptures,  upon  the  subject  of  human  guilt, 
never  halt  between  two  opinions.  They  are  blood- . 
red.  The  God  of  the  Bible  is  intensely  immaculate, 
and  man  in  the  Bible  is  intensely  guilty.  The  in- 
spired mind  is  a  rational  and  logical  one.  It  either 
acquits  absolutely  and  eternally,  or  condemns  abso- 
lutely and  eternally.  It  either  pronounces  an  entire 
innocency  and  holiness,  such  as  will  enable  the 
possessor  of  it,  to  stand  with  angelic  tranquillity, 
amidst  the  lightnings  and  splendors  of  that  coun- 
tenance from  which  the  heavens  and  the  earth  flee 
away,  or  else  it  pronounces  an  entire  guiltiness,  in 
that  Presence,  of  such  scarlet  and  crimson  dye,  that 
nothino;  but  the  blood  of  incarnate  God  can  wash 
it  away.  The  Old  Testament,  especially,  to  which 
the  preacher  must  go  for  knowledge  upon  these 
themes,  because  the  Old  Dispensation  was  the  edu- 
cational dispensation  of  law,  is  full,  firm,  and  dis- 
tinct, in  its  rej^resentations.  Its  history,  is  the 
history  of  an  economy  designed  by  its  rites,  sym- 
bols, and  doctrines,  to  awaken  a  j^oig^ant  and 
constant  consciousness  of  guilt.  Its  prophecy, 
looks  with  eager  straining  eye,  and  j^oints  with 
tremulous  and  thrilling'  fim^er,  to  an  Atoner,  and 


PEEACnER   AND   TTEAEER.  271 

liis  atonement  for  guilt.  Its  poetry,  is  either  tlie 
irrepressible  mourning  and  wail  of  a  heart  gnawed 
by  guilt,  or  the  exuberant  and  glad  overflow  of  a 
heart  experiencing  the  joy  of  expiated  and  pardoned 
guilt. 

And  to  this,  is  owing  the  intense  vitality  of  the 
Old  Testament,  To  this  element  and  influence,  are 
traceable  the  vividness  and  energy  of  the  Hebrew 
mind, — so  different,  in  these  resj)ects,  from  the 
Oriental  mind  generally.  The  Hebrews  were  a 
part  of  that  same  great  Shemitic  race,  which  peopled 
Asia  and  the  East,  and  j^ossessed  the  same  general 
constitutional  characteristics.  But  why  did  the 
Hebrew  mind  become  so  vivid,  so  intense,  so  dyna- 
mic, while  the  Persian  and  the  Hindoo  became  so 
dreamy,  so  sluggish  and  lethargic?  Why  is  the 
religion  of  Moses  so  vivific  in  its  spirit,  and  j)articu- 
larly  in  its  influence  upon  the  conscience,  while 
the  religions  of  Zoroaster  and  Boodh  exert  precisely 
the  same  influence  upon  the  conscience  of  the  Per- 
sian and  the  Hindoo,  that  poppy  and  mandragora 
do  upon  his  body?  It  is  because  God  sul)jected 
the  Hebrew  mind  to  this  theistic,  this  Grnilt-elicitino- 
education.  From  the  very  beginning,  this  knowl- 
edge of  God's  unity  and  personality,  and  of  God's 
emotions  towards  holiness  and  sin,  was  kept  alive 
in  the  chosen  race.  The  people  of  Israel  were 
separated,  purposely,  and  witli  a  carefulness  that 
was  exclusive,  from  the  great  masses  of  the  Oriental 
world.     Either  by  a  direct  intercourse,  as  in  their 


272  HOMILETICS. 

exodus  from  Egy23t,  witli  tliat  personal  Jeliovali 
who  liad  cliosen  tliem  iu  distinction  from  all  other 
nations,  or  else  by  the  inspiration  of  their  legisla- 
tors and  prophets,  the  truth  that  God  is  a  sovereign 
and  a  judge,  "  keeping  mercy  for  thousands,  forgiv- 
ing iniquity  and  transgression,  and  that  will  by  no 
means  clear  the  guilty,"  was  made  more  and  more 
distinct  and  vivid  in  the  Hebrew  intuition,  while  it 
grew  dimmer  and  dimmer,  and  finally  died  out  of 
the  rest  of  the  Oriental  populations.  This  education, 
this  Biblical  education  of  the  Hebrews,  was  the 
source  of  that  energy  and  vitality  which  so  strikes 
us  in  their  way  of  thinking,  and  modes  of  expres- 
sion, and  the  absence  of  which  is  so  noticeable  in  the 
literatures  of  Persia  and  India. 

And  here,  it  is  obvious  to  remark  u2)on  the 
importance  of  a  close  investigation  of  those  parts 
of  the  Old  and  New  Testaments,  v/hich  treat  of  the 
subject  of  atonement,  as  antithetic  to  that  of  sin 
and  guilt.  For,  this  doctrine  of  expiation,  in  the 
Christian  system,  is  like  a  ganglion  in  the  human 
frame ;  it  is  a  knot  of  nerves ;  it  is  the  oscillating 
centre  where  several  primal  and  vital  truths  meet 
in  unity.  This  single  doctrine  of  sacrificial  oblation 
is  a  vast  implication.  It  implies  the  personality  of 
God,  with  all  its  elements  of  power.  It  involves 
the  absolute  self-will  and  responsibility  of  the  crea- 
ture in  the  origin  of  sin.  It  implies  the  necessary, 
inexorable  nature  of  justice.  And  if  Ave  analyze 
these  again,  we  shall  find  them  full  of  the  "  seeds 


PREACHER  AND   HEARER.  273 

of  things ;"  full  of  the  substance,  and  staple,  of  both 
ethics  and  evangelism.  Those  portions  of  the  Bible, 
therefore,  which  treat  of  this  central  truth  of  Chris- 
tianity, either  directly  or  indirectly,  should  receive 
the  most  serious  and  careful  investigation.  The 
Mosaic  system  of  sacrifices  should  be  studied,  until 
its  real  meanins:  and  intent  is  understood.  The  idea 
of  guilt, — we  employ  the  word  in  the  Platonic 
sense, — and  the  idea  of  expiation,  as  they  stand 
out  pure  and  simple,  yet  vivid  and  bright,  in  the 
Prophets  and  Psalms,  and  in  their  inspired  commen- 
tary, the  Epistle  to  the  Hebrews,  should  be  pon- 
dered, until  their  intrinsic  and  necessaiy  quality  is 
apprehended.  For,  there  is  danger  that  the  very 
ideas  themselves  may  fade  away  and  disappear,  in 
an  age  of  the  world,  and  under  a  dispensation,  in 
which  there  is  no  daily  sacrifice,  and  frequent  bleed- 
ing victim,  to  remind  men  of  their  debt  to  eternal 
justice.  The  Christian  religion,  by  furnishing  the 
one  great  sacrifice  to  which  all  other  sacrifices  look 
and  point,  has,  of  course,  done  aAvay  with  all  those 
typical  sacrifices  which  cannot  themselves  take  away 
guilt,  but  can  remind  of  it.^  And  now  that  the 
daily  remembrancers  of  the  ritual  and  ceremonial 
are  gone,  the  human  mind  needs,  more  than  ever,  to 
ponder  the  teachings,  and  breathe  in  the  spirit  of 
the  legal  dispensation,  in  order  to  keep  the  con- 
science   quick   and   active,   and    the    moral   sense 

* "  In  those  sacrifices  there  is  a  remembrance  again  made  of  sins 
every  year."    Ilcb.  x.  3. 
18 


274  noivriLETics. 

healthy   and  souml,  iu  respect  to  the   two  great 
fundamental  ideas  of  guilt  and  retribution. 

It  has  been  au  error,  more  common  since  the 
days  of  Grotius,  than  it  ^vas  in  the  time  of  the 
Protestant  Keformation,  that  the  doctrine  of  the 
atonement  has  been  explained,  and  illustrated,  too 
much  by  a  reference  to  the  attribute  of  benevolence 
and  the  interests  of  the  creature,  and  too  little  by  a 
reference  to  the  attribute  of  justice,  and  the  re- 
morseful workings  of  conscience.  There  is  hazard, 
upon  this  method,  that  the  simple,  uncomplex  ideas 
of  guilt  and  atonement,  as  they  operate  in  the  very 
moral  being  of  the  individual  sinner,  and  as  they 
have  their  ground  in  the  very  nature  of  God,  may 
be  lost  si2:ht  of,  and  the  whole  transaction  of  recon- 
ciliation  be  transferred  into  a  region  which,  during 
the  first  exercises  of  an  awakened  soul,  is  too  distant 
for  a  vivid  apprehension  and  impression.  Man  must 
in  the  end,  indeed,  come  to  understand  the  bearings 
of  the  sacrifice  of  the  Son  of  God,  upon  what 
Chalmers  calls  "the  distant  places  of  God's  crea- 
tion ;"  but  he  will  be  more  likely  to  attain  this 
understanding,  if  he  first  comes  to  apprehend  its 
bearings  upon  his  personal  guilt  and  remorse,  and 
how  the  blood  of  the  Lamb  expiates  crime  within 
his  own  burning  self-consciousness.  For,  guilt  and 
expiation  are  philosophical  correlates,  genuine  cor- 
respondencies, set  over  against  each  other,  like 
hunger  and  food,  like  thirst  and  water.  "  My  flesh," 
saith  the  Atoner,  "is  meat  indeed;  my  blood  is 


PEEACHER  AND    HEAEER,  275 

drink  with  emphasis."  lie  who  knows,  with  a 
vivid  and  vital  self-consciousness,  what  guilt  means, 
knows  what  atonement  means  as  soon  as  presented ; 
and  he  who  does  not  experimentally  apprehend  the 
one,  cannot  apprehend  the  other.  If,  therefore,  any 
man  would  see  the  sig-uificance  and  necessity  of 
sacrificial  exj^iation,  let  him  first  see  the  significance 
and  reality  of  crime,  in  his  o^vn  personal  character 
and  direct  relationships  to  God.  The  doctrine 
grasped  and  held  Iie?'e,  presents  little  difficulty. 
For,  the  remorse,  now  felt,  necessitates  and  craves 
the  expiation  ;  and  the  expiation,  now  welcomed, 
explains  and  extinguishes  the  remorse. 

Now,  it  is  the  peculiarity  of  the  Biblical  repre- 
sentation of  this  whole  subject,  that  it  handles  it 
in  the  very  closest  connection  with  the  personal 
sense  of  sin ;  that  is  to  say,  in  its  relation  to  the 
conscience  of  man,  on  the  one  side,  and  the  moral 
indignation  of  God,  on  the  other.  In  the  Sci'ipturea 
the  atonement  is  a  j^fopitiation ,'  and  by  betaking 
himself  to  this  representation,  and  making  it  his 
own  spontaneous  mode  of  thinking  and  speaking 
upon  this  fundamental  doctrine,  the  preacher  will 
arm  his  mind  with  a  preternatural  power  and 
energy.  Look  at  the  preaching  of  those  who,  like 
Luther  and  Chalmers,  have  been  distinguished  by 
an  uncommon  freedom  and  saliency  in  their  manner 
of  exhil)iting  the  priestly  office  and  work  of  Christ, 
and  see  how  remarkably  the  Old  Testament  atone- 
ment vitalizes  the  conception,  and  the  phraseology. 


276  HO]MILETICS. 

There  is  no  circumlocution,  or  meclianical  explana- 
tion. The  remorse  of  man  is  acldrressed.  The 
simple  and  terrible  fact  of  guilt  is  presupposed, 
the  consciousness  of  it  elicited,  and  then  the  ample 
pacifying  satisfaction  of  Christ  is  offered.  The 
rationality  of  the  atonement  is  thus  seen  in  its 
inward  necessity ;  and  its  inward  necessity  is  seen 
in  the  very  nature  of  crime;  and  the  nature  of 
crime  is  seen  in  the  nature  of  God's  justice,  and  felt 
in  the  workings  of  man's  conscience.  In  this  way, 
preaching  becomes  intensely  personal,  in  the  proper 
sense  of  the  word.  It  is  made  up  of  personal  ele- 
ments, recognizes  personal  relationships,  breathes 
the  living  spirit  of  personality,  and  reaches  the 
heart  and  conscience  of  personal  and  accountable 
creatures. 

Is  not,  then,  the  word  of  God  as  a  fire,  in  respect 
to  this  class  of  truths,  and  its  mode  of  presenting 
them  ?  As  we  pass  in  review  the  representations  of 
God's  personal  emotions,  and  of  man's  culpability, 
which  are  made  in  those  living  oracles,  from  which 
the  clergyman  is  to  draw  the  subject-matter  of  his 
discourses,  and  the  layman  is  to  derive  all  his  cer- 
tain and  infallible  knowledge  respecting  his  future 
prospects  and  destiny,  is  it  not  plain,  that  if  there 
be  lethargy  and  torpor  on  the  part  of  either  the 
preacher  or  the  hearer,  if  there  be  a  lack  of  elo- 
quence, it  will  not  be  the  fault  of  the  written  Keve- 
lation  ?  As  we  look  abroad  over  Christendom,  do 
we  not  perceive  the  great  need  of  a  more  incisive 


PEEACHER  ^VND  HEAREE.  277 

impression,  from  those  particuLar  truths  which  relate 
to  these  personal  qualities,  these  moral  feelings  of 
the  Deity,  which  cut  sharply  into  the  conscience, 
probe  and  cleanse  the  corrupt  heart,  and  induce 
that  salutary  fear  of  God  which  the  highest  author 
ity  assures  us  is  the  beginning  of  wisdom?  Is 
there  in  the  visible  Clmrch,  such  a  clear  and  poign- 
ant insight  into  the  nature  of  sin  and  guilt,  such 
reverential  views  of  the  Divine  holiness  and  majesty, 
and  such  a  cordial  welcoming  of  the  atonement  of 
God,  as  have  characterized  the  more  earnest  eras  in 
Church  history?  And  if  we  contemplate  the 
mental  state,  and  condition,  of  the  multitude  who 
make  no  profession  of  godliness,  and  in  whom 
the  naturalism  of  the  age  has  very  greatly  under- 
mined the  old  ancestral  belief  in  a  sin-hatiuo-,  and  a 
sin-pardoning  Deity,  do  we  not  find  still  greater 
need  of  the  fire,  and  the  hammer,  of  the  word  of 
the  Lord  ? 

II.  Having  thus  described  the  preacher's  duty, 
in  regard  to  a  certain  form  and  aspect  of  revealed 
truth,  we  pass,  now,  in  the  second  place,  to  consider 
the  hearer's  duty,  and  thereby  evince  the  recipro- 
city of  the  relation  that  exists  between  them.  We 
shall  direct  attention,  in  the  remainder  of  the  chap- 
ter, to  that  sort  of  understanding,  with  regard  to 
this  mode  of  preaching,  which  ought  to  exist  be- 
tween the  hearer  and  the  preacher, — that  intellec- 
tual temper  which  the  popular  mind  should  adopt 
and   maintain,   towards   this   style    of   homiletics. 


278  HOMILETICS. 

For  if,  as  we  remarked  in  the  outset,  tlie  effective- 
ness of  the  orator  is  dependent  upon  tlie  receptivity 
of  the  auditor,  then,  there  is  no  point  of  more  im- 
portance to  the  Christian  ministry,  than  the  general 
attitude  of  the  public  mind  towards  the  severer 
truths,  and  doctrines  of  revelation.  What,  then,  is 
the  proper  temper  in  hearing,  which  is  to  stand  over 
against  this  proper  tone  in  preacliing  ? 

In  order  to  answer  this  question,  we  must,  in 
the  outset,  notice  the  relation  that  exists  between 
Divine  truth  and  an  apostate  mind  like  that  of  man, 
and  the  call  which  it  makes  for  moral  earnestness 
and  resoluteness.  For,  we  are  not  treating  of  public 
religious  address  for  the  seraphim,  but  for  the 
sinful  children  of  men ;  and  we  shall  commit  a 
grave  error,  if  we  assume  that  the  eternal  and 
righteous  truth  of  God,  as  a  matter  of  course,  must 
fall  like  blessed  genial  sun-light  into  the  corrupt 
human  heart,  and  make  none  but  pleasant  impres- 
sions at  first.  It  is  therefore  necessary,  first  of  all, 
to  know  precisely  what  are  the  affinities,  and  also 
what  are  the  antagonisms,  between  the  guilty  soul 
of  man,  and  the  holy  Word  of  God. 

It  is  plain,  that  such  an  antagonism  is  implied 
in  the  prophet's  interrogatory.  For,  if  the  word 
of  God  is  "  as  a  fire,"  the  human  mind,  in  relation 
to  it,  must  be  as  a  fuel.  For,  why  does  fire  exist, 
except  to  burn?  When,  therefore,  the  message 
from  God  breathes  that  startlinsf  and  illumiuatins: 
spirit  which  thrilled  through  the  Hebrew  prophets. 


PREACHER   AND   HEARER.  279 

and  at  times  fell  from  the  lips  of  Incarnate  Mercy 
itself,  still  and  swift  as  lic^litnins:  from  the  soft 
summer  cloud,  it  must  cause 

"Anguish,  and  doubt,  and  fear,  and  sorrow,  and  pain, 
In  mortal  minds." 

The  posture,  consequently,  wliicli  the  "mortal 
mind "  shall  take  and  keep,  in  reference  to  such  a 
l^ainful  message  and  proclamation  from  the  heavens, 
is  a  point  of  the  utmost  importance.  Many  a 
human  soul  is  lost,  because,  at  a  certain  critical 
juncture  in  its  history,  it  yielded  to  its  fear  of 
mental  sufferins:.  The  word  of  God  had  beojun  to 
be  "  a  fire  "  unto  it,  and  foreseeing  (Oh,  with  how 
quick  an  instinct!)  a  painful  process  of  self  scrutiny 
and  self-knowledge  coming  on,  it  wilfully  broke 
away  from  all  such  messages  and  influences,  flung 
itself  into  occupations  and  enjoyments,  and  quenched 
a  pure  and  good  flame  that  would  have  only  burnt 
out  its  dross  and  its  sin  ;  a  merely  temporary  flame, 
that  would  have  superseded  the  necessity  of  the 
eternal  one  that  is  now  to  come.  For,  there  is  an 
instinctive  and  overmastering  shrinking  in  every 
man  from  suffering,  which  it  requires  much  reso- 
lution to  overcome.  The  prospect  of  impending 
danger  rouses  his  utmost  energy  to  escape  from  it, 
and  his  soul  does  not  recover  its  wonted  tranquil- 
lity, until  the  threatening  calamity  is  overpast.  In 
this,  lies  all  the  power  of  the  drama,  in  its  higher 
forms.     The  exciting  impression  made  by  a  tragedy 


280  nOMILETICS. 

springs  from  the  steadily  increasing  danger  of  suf 
feriug,  wliich  tliickens  about  tlie  career  of  principal 
characters  in  the  plot.  The  liability  to  undergo 
pain,  which  increases  as  the  catastrophe  approaches, 
united  with  the  struggles  of  the  endangered  person 
to  escape  from  it,  wakens  a  sympathy  and  an  ex- 
citement, in  the  reader  or  the  spectator,  stronger 
than  that  produced  by  any  other  species  of  litera- 
ture. And  whenever  the  winding-up  of  any  pas- 
sage in  human  history,  lifts  off  the  burden  of 
apprehension  from  a  human  being,  and  exhibits 
him  in  the  enjoyment  of  the  ordinary,  haj^py  lot  of 
humanity,  instead  of  crushed  to  earth  by  a  tragic 
issue  of  life,  we  draw  a  breath  so  long  and  free,  as 
to  evince  that  we  share  a  common  nature,  one  of 
whose  deepest  and  most  spontaneous  feelings  is  the 
dread  of  suffering  and  pain. 

And  yet,  when  we  have  said  this,  we  have  not 
said  the  whole.  Deep  as  is  this  instinctive  shrink- 
ing from  distress,  there  are  powers  and  motives 
which,  when  in  action,  will  carry  the  human  soul 
and  body  through  scenes,  and  experiences,  at  which 
human  nature,  in  its  quiet  moods  and  its  indolent 
states,  stands  aghast.  There  are  times,  when  the 
mind,  the  rational  judgment,  is  set  in  opj)Osition  to 
the  body,  and  compels  its  earth-born  companion  to 
undergo  a  travail,  and  a  woe,  from  which  its  own 
constitutional  love  of  ease,  and  dread  of  suffering, 
shrink  back  with  a  shuddering  recoil. 

This   antagonism   between  the   sense   and  the 


PEEACHEE  AOT)   IIEAEER.  281 

mind,  is  seen  in  its  more  impressive  forms,  witliin 
the  sphere  of  ethics  and  religion.  Even  upon  the 
low  position  of  the  stoic,  we  sometimes  see  a  severe 
dealing  with  luxurious  tendencies,  and  a  lofty  hero- 
ism in  trampling  down  the  flesh,  which,  were  it  not 
utterly  vitiated  by  pride  and  vainglorying,  would 
be  worthy  of  the  martyr  and  the  confessor.  But 
when  we  rise  up  into  the  region  of  entire  self-abne- 
gation for  the  glory  of  God,  we  see  the  opposition 
between  the  flesh  and  the  spirit,  in  its  sublimer 
form,  and  know  something  of  the  terrible  conflict 
between  mind  and  matter  in  a  fallen  creature,  and, 
still  more,  of  the  glorious  triumph  in  a  redeemed 
being,  of  truth  and  righteousness  over  j^ain  and 
fear.  "  If  thy  right  eye  offend  thee,  pluck  it  out 
and  cast  it  from  thee,"  is  a  command  that  has  actu- 
ally been  obeyed  by  thousands  of  believers, — by 
the  little  child,  and  by  the  tender  and  delicate 
woman,  who  would  not  adventure  to  set  the  sole  of 
her  foot  upon  the  ground,  for  delicateness  and  ten- 
derness,— not  in  stoical  pride  and  self-reliance,  not 
with  self-consciousness  and  self-gratulation,  but  in 
meekness,  and  fear,  and  much  trembling,  and  also 
in  the  spirit  of  power,  of  love,  and  of  a  sound 
mind. 

There  is  call,  therefore,  on  the  part  of  the  hearer 
of  religious  trutli,  for  that  sort  of  temper  Avhich  is 
expressed  in  the  words  of  the  Psalmist,  "  Let  the 
righteous  smite  me,  it  shall  be  a  kindness."  In  this 
resolute  utterance,  suftering  is  not  deprecated,  as  it 


282  HOMTLETICS. 

would  be,  if  these  instincts  and  impulses  of  human 
nature  had  their  way  and  their  will,  but  is  actually 
courted  and  asked  for.  That  in  the  Psalmist  which 
needs  the  smiting  of  the  righteous  and  of  righte- 
ousness, and  which,  for  this  reason,  shrinks  from 
it,  is  rigorously  kept  under,  in  order  that  the  inflic- 
tion may  be  administered  for  the  honor  of  the 
truth,  and  the  health  of  the  soul. 

And  such,  it  is  contended,  should  be  the  general 
attitude  of  the  public  mind,  towards  that  particular 
form  and  aspect  of  divine  revelation  which  has 
been  delineated  in  the  first  part  of  this  chapter. 
Every  human  being,  the  natural  as  well  as  the 
spiritual  man,  ought  to  say,  "  Let  the  righteous 
smite  me,  it  shall  be  a  kindness ;  let  the  truth  and 
law  of  God  sei^e,  with  their  strongest  grasp  and 
bite,  upon  my  reason  and  conscience,  it  shall  be  an 
eternal  blessing  to  me  "  We  do  not  suppose  that 
the  natural  man,  as  such,  can  make  these  words  his 
own  in  the  high  and  full  sense,  in  which  they  were 
uttered  by  the  regenerate  and  inspired  mind  of 
David.  But  we  do  suppose,  that  every  auditor  can 
control  his  impatience,  and  rej)ress  his  impulses  to 
flee  away  from  the  hammer  and  the  fire,  and  con- 
quer his  prejudices,  and  compel  his  ear  to  hear  doc-, 
trinal  statements  that  pain  his  soul,  and  force  his 
understanding  to  take  in  truths  and  arguments  that 
weigh  like  night  upon  his  feelings,  and  that  say  to 
him,  as  did  the  voice  that  cried  in  the  tortured  soul 
of  Macbeth,  "  Sleep  no  more ;  rest  and  peace  for 


PEEACHER   AND   HEAEER.  283 

thee,  in  thy  present  state,  are  gone  forever."  Has 
not  the  Christian  ministry  a  right  to  expect  a  tacit 
purpose,  and  a  resolute  self-promise,  upon  the  part 
of  every  attendant  upon  public  worship,  to  hold 
the  mind  close  up  to  all  logical  and  self-consistent 
exhibitions  of  revealed  truth,  and  take  the  mental, 
the  inward  consequences,  be  they  what  they  may  1 
One  of  the  early  Fathers  speaks  of  the  "ire  of 
truth."  Ought  not  every  thinking,,  every  reasoning 
man,  to  be  willing  to  resist  his  instinctive  and 
his  effeminate  dread  of  suffering,  and  expose  his 
sinful  soul  to  this  "  ire,"  because  it  is  the  ire  of  law 
and  righteousness  ? 

1.  In  presenting  the  argument  for  this  sort  of 
resolute  temper,  in  the  public  mind,  towards  the 
cogent  representations  of  the  pulpit,  it  is  evident, 
in  the  first  place,  that  upon  the  general  principles 
of  propriety  and  fitness,  the  sacred  audience,  the 
assembly  that  has  collected  upon  the  Sabbath  day, 
and  in  the  sanctuary  of  God,  ought  to  expect  and 
prepare  for  such  distinctively  Biblical  representa- 
tions of  God  and  themselves,  as  have  been  spoken 
of  The  secular  week  has  been  filled  up  with  the 
avocations  of  business,  or  the  pursuits  of  science 
and  literature,  and  now  when  the  exclusively  reli- 
gious day  and  duties  begin,  is  it  not  the  i)art  of 
consistency,  to  desire  that  the  eternal  world  should 
throw  in  upon  the  soul  its  most  solemn  influences, 
and  that  religious  truth  should  assail  the  judgment 
and    the    conscience,   with   its   strongest   energy? 


284  UOMILETICS- 

Plainly,  if  the  religious  interests  of  man  are  worth 
attending  to  at  all,  they  are  worth  the  most  serious 
and  thorousrh  attention.  This  Sabbatical  sescment 
of  human  life,  these  religious  hours,  should  be  let 
alone  by  that  which  is  merely  secular  or  literary, 
in  order  that  while  they  do  last,  the  purest  and 
most  strictly  religious  influences  may  be  exj^erienced. 
A  man's  salvation  does  not  depend  so  much  upon 
the  length  of  his  religious  experience  and  exercises, 
as  upon  their  thoroughness.  A  single  thoroughly 
penitent  sigh  wafts  the  soul  to  the  skies,  and  the 
angels,  and  the  bosom  of  God.  But  such  exhaust- 
ive thoroughness  in  the  experience,  is  the  fruit  only 
of  thoroughness  in  the  previous  indoctrination. 
He,  therefore,  who  is  willing  to  place  himself  under 
the  religious  influences  of  the  Sabbath  and  the 
sanctuary,  should  be  willing  to  experience  the  very 
choicest  of  these  influences.  He  who  takes  pains 
to  present  himself  in  the  house  of  God,  should 
expect  and  jorepare  for  the  most  truthful,  and  sol- 
emn of  all  messao;es.  Professino;  to  devote  himself 
to  the  subject  of  religion,  and  no  other,  and  to  lis- 
ten to  the  ministration  of  God's  word,  and  no  other, 
his  utterance  should  be  that  of  the  Psalmist :  "  Let 
the  righteous  smite  me,  it  shall  be  a  kindness." 
Seating  himself  in  the  house  of  God,  it  should  be 
with  an  expectation  of  plain  dealing  with  his 
understanding,  and  with  the  feeling  of  the  stern, 
yet  docile  auditor,  whose  uniform  utterance  before 
the  preacher  was  :    "  Now  let  the  word  of   God 


PREACnER   AIS^D    UEARER.  285 

come."  AVe  lay  it  down,  tlien,  as  a  maxim  of  fit- 
uess  aDcl  self-consisteucy,  that  tlie  public  mind 
ouglit  ever  to  expect  and  require  from  the  public 
religious  teacher,  the  most  distinctively  religious, 
and  strictly  Biblical  exhibitions  of  truth,  upon  the 
Sabbath  day,  and  in  the  house  of  God.  Other  days, 
and  other  convocations,  may  exj)ect  aud  demand 
other  themes,  and  other  ti-ains  of  thought,  but  the 
great  religious  day  of  Christendom,  and  the  great 
relio-ious  congregation,  insists  upon  an  impression 
bold  and  distinct  from  the  vs^orld  to  come.  "  He 
has  done  his  duty,  now  let  us  do  ours,"  was  the 
rej^ly  of  Louis  XIV.,  to  the  complaint  of  a  fawning 
and  dissolute  courtier,  that  the  sermon  of  Bourda- 
loue  had  been  too  pungent  and  severe.  There  was 
manliness  and  reason,  in  the  reply.  The  pulpit  had 
discharged  its  legitimate  function,  and  irreligious  as 
was  the  grand  monarch  of  the  French  nation,  his 
head  was  clear,  and  his  judgment  correct. 

If,  now,  the  auditor  himself,  of  his  own  free  will, 
adopts  this  maxim,  and  resolutely  holds  his  mind  to 
the  themes  and  trains  of  thought  that  issue  from 
the  word  of  God,  a  blessing  and  not  a  cui-se  will 
come  upon  him.  Like  the  patient  smitten  with 
leprosy,  or  struck  mth  gangrene,  who  resolutely 
holds  out  the  diseased  limb  for  the  knife  and  the 
cautery,  this  man  shall  find  that  good  comes  from 
taking  sides  with  the  Divine  law,  and  sul)jecting 
the  intellect  (for  we  are  now  pleading  merely  for 
the  human  understanding),  to  the  searching  sword 


286  IIOMILETICS. 

of  tlie  trutli.  There  is  sucli  a  tiling  as  common 
grace,  and  that  hearer  who  is  enabled  by  it,  Sa1)bath 
after  Sabbath,  to  overcome  his  instinctive  fear  of 
suffering,  and  to  exercise  a  salutary  rigor  with  his 
mind,  respecting  the  style  and  type  of  its  religious 
indoctrination,  may  hope  that  common  and  preve- 
nient  grace  shall  become  renewing  and  sanctifying 
grace. 

Probably,  no  symptom  of  the  feeling  and  ten- 
dency of  the  popular  mind  would  be  witnessed  and 
watched  with  more  interest,  by  the  Christian  phi- 
losopher or  the  Christian  orator,  than  a  growing 
disposition,  on  the  part  of  the  masses,  to  listen  to 
the  strict  truths,  the  systematic  doctrines  of  Chris- 
tianity, and  to  ponder  u]3on  them.  And  why  should 
there  not  be  this  disposition  at  all  times  ?  That 
which  is  strictly  true  is  entirely  true ;  is  thoroughly 
true;  true  without  abatement,  or  qualification. 
Why,  then,  shall  a  thinking  creature  shrink  back 
from  the  exactitudes  of  theology,  the  severities  of 
righteousness  ?  Why  should  not  the  human  mind 
follow  out  every  thing  within  the  province  of  reli- 
gion, to  its  last  results,  without  reference  to  the  im- 
mediate painfid  effect  upon  the  feelings  ?  If  a  thing 
be  true,  why  confer  with  flesh  and  blood  about  it  ? 
If  certain  distinctly  revealed  doctrines  of  revelation, 
accurately  stated  and  logically  followed  out,  do  cut 
down  all  the  cherished  hopes  of  a  sinful  man,  with 
respect  to  his  future  destiny,  why  not  let  them  cut 
them  down  ?     Why  not,  with  the  unsparing  self- 


PREACHER   AKD   HEARER.  287 

consistence  of  the  mathematician,  either  take  them 
as  legitimate  and  inevitable  conclusions,  from  ad- 
mitted sources  and  premises,  in  all  their  strictness 
and  fearful  meaning,  or  else  throw  sources,  premises, 
and  conclusions  all  away  ?  How  is  it  possible  for 
a  thinking  man,  to  maintain  a  middle  and  a  neu- 
tral ground,  in  doctrinal  religion,  any  more  than  in 
science  ? 

2.  But,  leaving  this  mainly  intellectual  argument 
for  the  Psalmist's  temper,  towards  the  stern  side  of 
Revelation,  we  pass,  in  the  second  place,  to  the  yet 
stronger  moral  argument,  drawn  from  the  nature  of 
that  great  sj^iritual  change,  which  the  Founder  of 
Christianity  asserts  must  pass  upon  every  human 
beins:,  in  order  to  entrance  into  the  kiuo:dom  of 
heaven. 

Man,  though  self-ruined,  is  helplessly,  hopelessly 
ruined.  Loaded  with  guilt,  which  he  cannot  expi- 
ate, and  in  bondage  to  a  sin  from  which  he  can 
never  deliver  himself,  he  cannot  now  be  saved  ex- 
cept by  the  most  2")owerful  methods,  and  the  most 
thorough  processes.  What  has  been  done  outside, 
in  the  counsels  of  eternity,  and  in  the  depths  of  the 
Triune  God,  to  bring  about  human  redemption, 
evinces  the  magnitude  and  the  difficulty  of  the  work 
undertaken.  But,  of  this  we  do  not  propose  to 
speak.  We  speak  only  of  what  is  to  be  done  in- 
side^ in  the  mind  and  heart  of  the  individual  man, 
as  evincing,  conclusively,  tliat  this  salvation  of  the 
human  soul  cannot  be  brought  about  by  imperfect 


288  HOMILETICS. 

and  slender  exhibitions  of  truth,  or  by  an  irresolute 
and  timorous  posture  of  tlie  auditor's  mind.  N"o 
man  is  compelled  to  suffer  salvation.  Pardon  of  all 
sin,  from  tlie  eternal  God,  and  purity  for  eternal 
ages,  are  offered  to  him,  not  as  a  cheap  thing  to  be 
forced  upon  an  unwilling  recipient,  but  as  a  price- 
less boon.  Our  Lord  himself,  therefore,  bids  every 
man  count  the  cost,  and  make  up  the  comparative 
estimate,  before  he  commences  the  search  for  eternal 
life.  "  Either  make  the  tree  good,  and  his  fruit  good ; 
or  else  make  the  tree  corrupt,  and  his  fruit  corrupt." 
Be  tliorough  in  one  direction,  or  the  other.  Either 
be  a  saint,  or  a  sinner.  The  Redeemer,  virtually, 
advises  a  man  not  to  begin  the  search  at  all,  unless 
he  begin  it  in  earnest.  The  entire  Scrij^ture  repre- 
sentation is,  that  as  man's  salvation  cost  much  on 
high  and  in  the  heavens,  so  it  must  cost  much  be- 
low, and  in  the  soul  of  man.  If,  then,  religion  be  not 
rejected  altogether,  and  the  hearer  still  expects  and 
hopes  to  derive  an  everlasting  benefit  from  it,  he 
should  take  it  precisely  as  he  finds  it,  and  allow  its 
truths  to  wound  first,  that  they  may  heal  after- 
wards; to  slay  in  the  beginning,  that  they  may 
make  alive  in  the  end. 

For,  such  is  the  method  of  Christianity.  Con- 
viction is  the  necessary  antecedent  to  conversion. 
But  how  is  this  great  process  to  be  carried  through, 
if  the  public  mind  shrinks  away  from  all  convicting 
truth,  as  the  sensitive  plant  does  from  the  touch  ? 
How  is  man  to  be  conducted  down  into  the  depths 


PREACHER   AND    HEARER.  289 

of  an  Iiiimbling  and  abasing  self-knowledge,  if  lie 
does  not  allow  the  flashing  and  fiery  illumination 
of  the  law  and  the  prophets,  to  drive  out  the  black 
darkness  of  self-deception  ?  It  is  impossible,  as  we 
have  already  observed,  that  Divine  truth  should 
pour  its  first  rays  into  the  soul  of  alienated  man, 
without  producing  pain.  The  unfallen  seraph  can 
hear  the  law  proclaimed  amidst  thunders  and  light- 
nings, with  a  serene  spirit  and  an  adoring  frame, 
because  he  has  perfectly  obeyed  it  from  the  begin- 
ning. But  Moses,  and  the  children  of  Israel,  and  all 
the  posterity  of  Adam,  must  hear  law,  when  first 
proclaimed,  with  exceeding  fear  and  quaking,  .be- 
cause they  have  broken  it.  It  is  a  fact  too  often 
overlooked,  that  Divine  truth,  w^hen  accurately 
stated  and  closely  applied,  cannot  leave  the  mind 
of  a  sinful  being  as  quiet,  and  hapj^y,  as  it  leaves 
that  of  a  holy  being.  In  the  case  of  man,  therefore, 
the  truth  must,  in  the  outset,  cause  foreboding  and 
alarm.  In  the  history  of  the  human  religious  ex- 
perience, soothing,  consolation,  and  joy,  from  the 
trtith,  are  the  subsequents,  and  not  the  antecedents. 
The  plain  and  full  proclamation  of  that  w^ord  of 
God  which  is  "  as  a  fire,"  must,  at  first,  awaken  mis- 
givings and  fears,  and,  until  man  has  passed  through 
this  stage  of  experience,  must  leave  his  sinful  and 
lost  soul  with  a  sense  of  danger  and  insecurity. 
There  is,  consequently,  no  true  option  for  man,  but 
either  not  to  hear  at  all,  or  else  to  hear  first  in  the 

poignant  and  anxious  style.    The  choice  that  is  left 
19 


290  HOMILETICS. 

him  is  either  that  of  the  Pharisee,  or  the  Masrclalen : 
that  of  the  self-righteous,  or  the  self-condemned; 
either  to  hate  the  light,  and  not  come  to  the  light, 
lest  painful  disclosures  of  character  and  conduct  be 
made,  or  else  to  come  resolutely  out  into  the  light, 
that  the  deeds  may  he  reproved. 

For,  this  work  of  reproval  is  the  first  and  indis- 
pensable function  of  religious  truth,  in  the  instance 
of  the  natural  man.  If  there  be  self-satisfaction, 
and  a  sense  of  security,  in  the  unrenewed  human 
soul,  it  is  certain  that,  as  yet,  there  is  no  contact 
between  it  and  the  Divine  word.  For  it  is  as  true 
of  every  man,  as  it  was  of  the  apostle  Paul,  that 
when  the  law  shall  come  with  plainness  and  power 
to  his  mind,  he  will  "  die."  His  hope  of  heaven 
will  die;  his  hope  of  a  quiet  death-bed  will  die;  his 
hope  of  acquittal  and  safety  in  the  day  of  judgment, 
and  at  the  bar  of  God,  will  die.  That  apostolic 
experience  was  legitimate  and  normal,  and  no 
natural  man  must  expect  that  the  truth  and  law 
of  God,  when  applied  with  distinctness  and  power 
to  his  reason  and  conscience,  will  leave  him  with 
any  different  experience,  in  the  outset,  from  that 
which  has  initiated  and  heralded  the  passage  from 
darkness  to  light,  and  from  sin  to  holiness,  in  every 
instance  of  a  soul's  redemption.  There  is  no  royal 
road  across  the  chasm  that  separates  the  renewed, 
from  the  unrenewed  man.  In  order  to  salvation, 
every  human  creature  must  tread  that  strait  and 
narrow  jDath  of  self-examination,  self-condemnation. 


PREACHER   AKD   IIEARER.  291 

and  self-reiuiuciiition,  wliicli  -was  trodden  Ly  tlie 
goodly  fellowship  of  the  prophets,  the  glorious 
company  of  the  apostles,  and  the  noble  army  of 
the  martyrs. 

In  subjecting  the  mind  and  conscience  to  the 
poignant  influence  of  keen  and  pure  truth,  and 
doing  every  thing  in  his  power, to  have  the  stern  and 
preparatory  doctrines  of  the  legal  dispensation  be- 
come a  schoolmaster,  to  lead  him  to  the  mercy  and 
the  pity  that  is  in  the  blood  of  Christ,  the  hearer  in 
the  sanctuary  is  simply  acting  over  the  conduct  of 
every  soul  that,  in  the  past,  has  crossed  from  the 
kinofdom  of  darkness  to  the  kinwiom  of  liirht.  He 
is  merely  travelling  the  King's  highway,  to  the  celes- 
tial city ;  and  whoever  would  climb  up  some  other 
way,  the  same  is  a  thief  and  a  robber.  Even  the 
thoughtful  pagan  acknowledged  the  necessity  of 
painful  processes  in  the  human  mind,  in  order  to 
any  moral  improvement.  Over  the  Delphic  portal 
were  inscribed  these  words :  "Without  the  descent 
into  the  hell  of  self-knowledge,  there  is  no  ascent  into 
heaven."  We  do  not  suppose  that  this  remarkable 
saying  exhibits  its  full  meaning,  within  the  province 
of  the  pagan  religion,  or  of  natural  religion.  The 
heathen  sage  often  uttered  a  truth,  w^hose  pregnant 
significance  is  understood  only  in  the  light  of  a 
higher  and  supernatural  dispensation.  But,  if  the 
anguish  of  self-knowledge  is  postulated  by  pagan- 
ism, in  order  to  the  origin  of  virtue  within  the 
human  soul,  much  more,  then,  is  it  by  Christianity. 


292  HOMILETICS. 

If  tlie  lieatlien  moralist,  with  his  low  view  of  virtue, 
and  his  very  indistinct  apprehension  of  the  spiritu- 
ality of  the  moral  law,  and  his  utterly  inadequate 
conception  of  a  holy  and  happy  state  beyond  the 
grave,  could  yet  tell  us  that  there  is  a  hell  of  self- 
knowledge  to  be  travelled  through,  a  j)ainful  pro- 
cess of  self-scrutiny  and  self-condemnation  to  be 
endured,  before  moral  improvement  can  begin  here, 
or  the  elysiums  of  the  hereafter  be  attained, — if  this 
be  the  judgment  of  the  Heathen  moralist,  from  his 
low  point  of  viev/,  and  in  the  mere  twilights  of 
natural  religion,  what  must  be  the  judgment  of  the 
human  mind,  when,  under  the  Christian  dispensa- 
tion, the  moral  law  flashes  out  its  nimble  and  forked 
lightnings,  upon  sin  and  pollution,  with  a  fierceness 
of  heat  like  that  which  consumed  the  stones  and 
dust,  and  licked  up  the  water  in  the  trench,  about 
the  prophet's  altar;  when  Divine  truth  is  made 
quick  and  powerful  by  the  superadded  agency  of 
the  Holy  Ghost,  so  as  to  discern  the  very  thoughts 
and  intents  of  the  heart ;  when  the  pattern-image 
of  an  absolute  excellence  is  seen  in  Him  who  is  the 
brightness  of  the  Father's  eternal  glory ;  and  when 
the  heaven  to  be  sought  for,  and  what  is  yet  more, 
to  be  prepared  for,  is  a  state  of  spotless  and  sinless 
perfection  in  the  light  of  the  Divine  countenance ! 
Plainly,  self  knowledge  within  the  Christian  sphere 
implies,  and  involves,  a  searching  and  sifting  ex- 
amination into  character,  motive,  thought,  feeling, 
and  conduct,  such  as  no  man  can  undergo  without 


PEEACHER  AKD   HEAEER.  203 

sliame,  and  humiliation,  and  self-condemnation,  and 
remorse,  and,  without  the  blood  of  Christ,  everlast- 
ing despair. 

The  same  course  of  reasoning,  respecting  each 
and  all  the  remaining  processes  that  enter  into  the 
change  from  sin  to  holiness,  and  the  formation  of  a 
heavenly  character,  would,  in  each  instance,  help  to 
strengthen  the  argument  we  are  urging  in  favor  of 
the  plainest  preaching,  and  the  most  resolute  hear- 
ing, of  religious  truth.  The  more  a  man  knows  of 
sin  and  of  holiness,  of  the  immense  gulf  between 
them,  and  of  the  difficulty  of  the  passage  from  one 
to  the  other,  the  more  heartily  will  he  believe,  that 
the  methods  and  the  processes  by  which  the  trans- 
ition is  effected,  are  each  and  all  of  them  of  the 
most  energetic  and  thorough  character.  And  the 
deeper  this  conviction,  the  more  hearty  and  ener- 
getic will  be  his  adoption  of  the  Psalmist's  utter- 
ance, "Let  the  righteous  smite  me,  it  shall  be  a 
kindness." 

We  have  thus  considered  the  mutual  relations 
of  the  Sacred  Orator,  and  the  Christian  Auditor. 
In  doing  this,  we  have  passed  rapidly  over  a  very 
wide  field,  and  have  touched  upon  some  of  the  most 
momentous  themes  that  can  engage  the  human  mind. 
What,  and  how,  we  are  to  conceive  of  God;  and, 
particularly,  ho\v  we  are  to  re2")resent  Him  as  affected 
in  His  own  essential  being,  towards  the  holiness  or 
the  sin  of  His  creatures,  is  of  all  subjects  the  most 
serious  and  important.     In  closing  the  discussion, 


294  HOjnLETios. 

we  are  more  than  ever  impressed  mtli  the  import- 
ance of  a  bold  and  Biblical  theism,  in  the  Christian 
pulpit.  Whenever  the  preacher  asserts  that  God 
loves  the  righteous,  let  him  assert  it  with  energy, 
and  warmth,  and  momentum.  Let  him  make  his 
hearers  see,  and  know,  that  the  great  God  is  personal 
in  this  emotion ;  that  He  pours  out  upon  those  who 
are  in  filial  sympathy  with  Him  and  His  law,  the 
infinite  wealth  of  His  pure  and  stainless  affection, 
and  that  it  permeates  the  whole  being  of  the  object 
so  beloved,  with  warm  currents  of  light  and  life 
eternal.  And  whenever  he  asserts  that  God  hates 
sin,  and  is  angry  with  the  sinner,  let  him  assert  it 
without  any  abatement  or  qualification.  Let  him 
cause  the  impenitent  and  sin-loving  man  to  see,  and 
know,  that  upon  him,  as  taken  and  held  in  this 
sinful  character  and  condition,  the  eternal  and  holy 
Deity  is  pouring  out  the  infinite  intensity  of  His 
moral  displeasure,  and  that,  out  of  Christ,  and  irre- 
spective of  the  awful  passion  of  Gethsemane  and 
Calvary,  this  immaculate  and  stainless  emotion  of 
the  Divine  Essence  is  now  revealed  from  heaven 
against  his  unrighteousness,  and  is  only  awaiting 
his  passage  into  the  eternal  world,  to  become  the 
monotonous  and  everlasting  consciousness  of  the 
soul. 

Amidst  the  high  and  increasing  civilization,  and 
over-refinement,  that  are  coming  in  upon  Christen- 
dom, and,  especially,  amidst  the  naturalism  that 
threatens  the  Scriptures  and  the  Church,  the  Chris- 


PEEACnER    AND   HEAEEE.  295 

tiau  ministry  must  themselves  realize,  as  did  the 
Hebrew  prophets,  tliat  God  is  tlie  living  God,  and 
by  God's  own  help  and  grace  evoke  this  same  con- 
sciousness in  the  souls  of  their  hearers.  Let,  then, 
these  two  specific  personal  qualities, — the  Divine 
wrath,  and  the  Divine  love, — be  smitten,  and 
melted,  into  the  consciousness  of  the  nations. 
Then  will  there  be  the  piercing  wail  of  contrition, 
preceding  and  heralding  the  bounding  joy  of  con- 
scious pardon. 


CHAPTER    XII. 

LITURGIOAL  CULTIVATION  OF  THE  PREACHER. 

Having  discussed  tlie  principal  topics  in  the 
department  of  Homiletics,  we  are  brought,  now,  to 
a  subject  wliicli  lies  outside  of  it,  but  wliich  is 
intimately  connected  with  it,  in  the  services  of  the 
Christian  sanctuary.  It  is  Liturgies.  In  passing 
to  this  theme,  we  leave  the  subject  of  eloquence, 
and  consider  that  of  worship.  In  treating  of  Sa- 
cred Rhetoric,  we  were  occupied  with  the  address 
of  an  individual  to  an  audience ;  but  in  considering 
the  nature  and  province  of  Liturgies,  we  are  con- 
cerned with  the  address  of  the  audience  itself  to 
Almighty  God. 

The  liturgical  services  of  the  sanctuary  are  those 
parts  which  relate  to  Divine  worship.  As  the  ety- 
mology denotes,  the  liturgy  is  the  work  of  the  peo- 
ple: 7^ui:ov^])ubliGuin^  ^(ypulare  'y  e^yov,  opus.  The 
appropriate  work  of  the  auditor  is  worship,  as 
the  a]3propi'iate  work  of  the  orator  is  eloquence. 
Not  that  the  two  may  not  sometimes  interpenetrate, 
— especially  in  the  instance  of  the  preacher,  who  is 


LITGEGICAL   CULTIVATION.  297 

himself  to  worship,  ^vhile  he  instructs,  and  moves 
his  audience  to  acts  of  worship.  Yet,  as  it  is  the 
peculiar  function  of  the  preacher,  as  such,  to  address 
an  audience,  so  it  is  the  peculiar  function  of  the 
audience,  as  such,  to  address  God,  as  the  result  of 
the  preacher's  address  to  them.  Preaching  should 
always  end  in  worship.  While  the  rhetorical  pro- 
cesses of  instruction,  conviction,  and  persuasion, 
belong  to  the  speaker,  the  liturgical  acts  of  suj^pli- 
cation,  adoration,  and  praise,  belong  to  the  hearer. 
But,  the  preacher  is  to  lead  them  in  these  acts  of 
worship,  and  hence  the  need  of  principles,  and 
rules,  by  which  he  may  be  guided  in  the  discharge 
of  this  part  of  his  duty.  Hence  arises  the  depart- 
ment of  Liturgies,  in  the  general  course  of  clerical 
discipline. 

It  is  necessary,  in  the  outset,  to  remark,  that 
*  this  department,  though  an  important  one,  cannot 
be  made  so  prominent,  in  those  Churches  which 
adopt  no  complicated  formulary  of  public  devo- 
tions. It  naturally  becomes  more  complex,  and 
comprehensive  of  rules  and  regulations,  in  Churches 
which,  like  the  Romish,  the  English,  and  the  Lu- 
theran, use  a  liturgy.  Hence,  in  the  German  trea- 
tises upon  Practical  Theology,  that  pai-t  denomi- 
nated Liturgies  is  very  thoroughly  elaborated ;  and 
if  we  do  not  find  the  same  thing  true  of  Romish, 
and  Episcopal  treatises,  it  is  because  there  is  in 
these  communions  little  disposition  to  examine  into 
the  speculative  grounds  of  ecclesiastical  usages,  and 


298  nomLETics. 

not  because  the  department  itself  is  undervalued 
by  them,  in  actual  practice.  As  matter  of  fact,  in 
both  the  Romish  and  English  Churches,  the  liturgy 
overshadows  the  sermon;  the  forms,  and  formu- 
laries of  worship,  receive  more  attention  than  the 
j)rinciples,  and  canons,  of  eloquence.  This  branch 
of  the  subject,  consequently,  demands  a  briefer 
and  less  elaborate  treatment,  so  far  as  the  wants 
of  those  Protestant  churches  which  are  distin- 
guished by  a  simple  ritual,  are  concerned ;  and  we 
shall  be  able  to  exhibit  its  leading  topics,  in  a 
single  chapter. 

The  liturgical  services  of  the  sanctuary,  in  those 
Protestant  communions  which  have  no  liturgy,  are 
left,  very  much,  to  the  choice  of  the  preacher.  In 
the  Episcopal  and  Lutheran  Churches,  the  passages 
of  Scripture  to  be  read,  the  prayers  that  are  to  be 
offered,  and,  to  some  extent,  the  praises  that  are  to 
be  sung,  are  prescribed  by  regulation,  and  are 
embodied  in  a  collection  called  the  Liturgy.  In 
the  other  Protestant  churches,  this  choice  is  left  to 
the  individual  clergyman,  and  hence  there  is,  in 
reality,  more  need  of  a  careful  liturgical  discipline, 
in  the  instance  of  the  Presbyterian  or  Congrega- 
tional clergyman,  than  in  that  of  the  Episcopa- 
lian, or  Lutheran,  or  Romish.  For,  even  if  the 
established  and  appointed  liturgy  should  not  in  all 
its  parts  be  appropriate,  the  officiating  clergyman 
has  no  option ;  and  when  its  arrangements  are 
approj3riate,  he  has  only  passively  to  adopt  them  as 


LITURGICAL   CULTTVATIOIT.  299 

his  own.  But  tlie  minister  of  a  simpler  worship, 
inasmuch  as  he  is  deprived  of  these  external  aids, 
needs,  all  the  more,  the  internal  aids  of  a  good 
taste',  and  a  cultivated  mind,  that  he  may  make  all 
that  part  of  the  services  of  the  sanctuary  which 
relates  to  worship,  as  distinguished  from  discourse, 
hariuouize  with  itself,  and  with  the  service  as  a 
whole.  There  are  three  topics  which  fall  within 
this  department  of  Liturgies:  namely,  selections 
from  Scripture,  selections  of  Jiyinns,  and  ^;2<5//c 
2')raijer.  We  shall  discuss  them  in  the  order  in 
which  they  have  been  mentioned. 

1.  The  reading  of  a  portion,  or  portions,  of 
Scripture,  though  not  so  strictly  a  liturgical  act,  is 
nevertheless  not  a  rhetorical  one.  It  is  true,  that 
praise  is  not  always  offered  to  God,  in  and  by  this 
service.  On  the  contrary,  preceptive  instruction  is 
very  often  imparted  to  the  people,  in  the  Scripture 
lessons;  and,  in  this  respect,  the  service  seems  to 
belong  more  to  the  work,  of  the  orator,  than  to 
the  work  of  the  audience.  Still,  it  does  not  prop- 
erly fjxll  within  the  province  of  Rhetoric ;  the  prin- 
ciples and  canons  of  Homiletics  have  nothing  to  do 
with  this  part  of  Divine  service.  It  must  be  regu- 
lated by  the  principles  of  taste.  The  matter  is 
already  formed  and  fixed  in  the  Scriptures,  and 
there  is  no  call  for  original  composition.  It  only 
remains,  therefore,  to  make  a  suitable  choice ;  and 
hence,  the  topic  itself  Mis  most  properly  into  the 
general  department  of   Liturgies.     The   principal 


300  HOMILETICS. 

directions  to  guide  tlie  clergyman  in  tlie  selection 
of  Scripture  lessons,  are  the  following. 

In  the  first  place,  when  there  is  nothing  that 
specially  calls  for  a  different  selection,  he  should 
choose  a  portion  of  Scripture  that  gives  expression 
to  some  feeling, — such  as  the  feeling  of  praise,  of 
thanksgiving,  of  adoration,  of  contrition.  The 
Psalms  are  largely  composed  of  such  matter,  and 
ought  to  be  selected  for  the  reading  before  sermon, 
more  often  than  they  are,  by  the  clergy  of  most 
Protestant  denominations.  The  great  excellence  of 
the  English  liturgy,  consists  in  the  size  of  the 
Psalter  embodied  in  it.  The  Psalms  are  better 
adapted  than  any  other  compositions,  to  elicit  the 
Christian  feeling  of  an  assembly.  They  range 
over  the  whole  field  of  the  affections,  and  every 
mood  of  the  Christian  heart  finds  a  full  and  mishino" 
utterance  in  them.  "  The  harp  of  David  was  full- 
stringed,  and  every  angel  of  joy  and  of  sorrow 
swept  over  the  chords,  as  he  passed."  They  ought, 
therefore,  to  be  made  the  means  of  worship;  of 
stirring  the  emotions  of  a.  Christian  assembly,  and 
of  preparing  it  for  the  lyrical  hymn  or  psalm. 
There  are  other  portions  of  the  Scri23tures,  also, 
like  the  glowing  predictions  of  the  prophets,  con- 
cerning the  future  of  the  Church,  which  partake  of 
this  characteristic  of  the  Psalms.  These  should  be 
selected  by  the  preacher,  so  that  the  Bible,  in  all  its 
variety  of  emotional  utterance,  may  become  the 
organ  through  which  the  Christian  assembly  gives 


LITUEGICAL   CULTIVATION.  301 

expression  to  its  own  emotions,  in  the  sanctuary 
In  this  way,  tlie  Bible  itself  becomes  tlie  liturgy. 

Secondly,  there  may  be,  occasionally,  a  special 
reason  for  selecting  a  doctrinal,  or  an  historical  por- 
tion of  Scripture,  and  hence  the  clergyman  ought 
not  to  be  rigidly  confined  to  such  portions  of  the 
Bible  as  we  have  mentioned.  It  may  be,  that  his 
sermon  is  of  such  a  special  character,  as  to  require 
the  reading  of  a  long  passage,  which  stands  in  close 
connection  with  it.  In  this  particular  instance,  if 
he  think  proper,  he  may  make  this  service  of  read- 
in  2;  somewhat  less  litmmcal,  and  more  didactic,  than 
would  ordinarily  be  desirable. 

Lastly,  whether  a  liturgical,  or  a  didactic,  portion 
of  Scripture  be  chosen,  it  should  be  congruous  with 
the  general  tone  of  the  services.  If,  for  example, 
the  attention  of  the  audience  is  to  be  directed,  in 
the  sermon,  to  an  encouraging,  cheering,  or  joyful 
subject,  the  psalm  selected  should  be  one  of  thanks- 
giving. To  prefoce  a  sermon  of  such  a  character, 
with  a  mournful  and  penitential  psalm,  would  be 
inapposite,  and  would  defeat  the  end  in  view.  The 
passage  to  be  read,  should  be  carefully  chosen,  and 
carefully  perused,  beforehand,  by  the  preacher.  He 
should  never  look  up  his  Scripture  lessons,  in  the 
pulpit. 

2.  The  choice  of  Hymns  is  the  second  topic, 
under  the  head  of  Liturgies.  The  principal  direc- 
tions, which  we  mention,  for  securing  an  excellent 
selection,  are  the  following.      First,  the  clergyman 


302  nomLETics. 

must  acquire  a  correct  knowledge  of  tlie  nature  of 
lyric  j)oetry.  Many  educated  men  are  deficient  in  a 
thorougli  understanding  of  tliis  species.  Epic  and 
dramatic  poetry  absorb  the  interest  of  students,  to 
the  neglect  of  lyric.  They  are  more  familiar  with 
Homer,  Shakspeare,  and  Milton,  than  with  Pindar, 
and  Burns.  This  is  owing,  partly,  to  the  fact  that, 
as  a  species,  lyric  poetry  is  of  a  lower  grade,  than 
epic  or  dramatic,  and  has  engaged  less  eminent 
poetic  powers.  But,  after  allowing  that  the  epic 
and  the  drama  are  loftier  performances  than  the 
ballad  and  the  song,  and  that  the  genius  of  Pindar 
and  Burns  is  not  equal  to  that  of  Homer  and 
Shakspeare,  it  is  still  true  that  lyric  poetry  does 
not,  commonly,  receive  that  degree  of  attention 
from  educated  men,  which  its  intrinsic  excellence 
and  importance  deserve.  For,  in  some  respects, 
the  lyric  comes  nearer  to  the  ideal  perfection  of 
poetry,  than  any  other  species.  As  works  of  art, 
as  exquisitely  comj)lete  wholes,  the  hymns  of  Pin- 
dar stand  at  the  head  of  human  compositions.  The 
range  of  thought  is  very  limited,  it  is  true,  in  the 
lyrical  ode,  but  this  permits  tlie  poet  to  impart  an 
ideal  completeness,  and  finish,  to  it,  that  are  not  to 
be  found  in  works  that  are  more  extended  in  their 
range.  We  never  shall  see  a  perfect  epic,  or  a 
perfect  drama,  because  of  the  variety  and  amount 
of  the  contents.  But,  the  hymns  of  Pindar,  and 
the  odes  of  Horace,  if  they  are  not  absolutely 
perfect,  do  yet,  it  is  universally  conceded,  approach 


LITUEGICAL    CULTIVATIO]!T.  303 

SO  near  to  tlie  ideal,  tliat  lie  sliould  possess  the  very 
highest  cesthetic  culture  who  presumes  to  assert  their 
imperfection,  and  ventures  to  attempt  to  make  good 
his  assertion,  by  pointing  out  defects. 

The  clergyman  must  devote  a  proper  attention 
to  this  species  of  poetry,  in  order  to  know,  both  by 
natural  feeling  and  cultivated  instinct,  what  is  lyri- 
cal, and  what  is  not.  This  kind  of  verse  is  made 
to  be  sung.  Other  species  have  no  special  connec- 
tion with  music ;  but  this  is  nothing,  unless  it  can 
be  set  to  tune.  That  poetry  which  is  not  fitted  to 
be  accompanied  with  the  human  voice,  and  the 
musical  instrument,  is  not  lyrical.  Tried  by  this  test, 
much  poetry  which  bears  this  name  is  not  worthy 
of  it.  It  is  too  didactic,  or  it  is  not  the  expres- 
sion of  feeling,  or  it  may  be  emotive,  yet  not  a  tune- 
ful utterance  of  emotion.  The  preacher  must,  there- 
fore, understand  the  general  subject  of  lyric  poetry. 
He  ouirht  to  familiarize  his  mind,  with  the  best 
specimens  in  Ancient  and  in  Modern  literature,  and 
with  the  most  philosophic  and  genial  criticism  upon 
them.  He  should  study  the  odes  of  Pindar  and 
Horace,  for  the  sake  of  the  perfusive  grace,  the 
high  artistic  finish,  and,  in  the  instance  of  Pindar, 
the  impassioned  fire  and  energy.  He  should  study 
the  Old  English  Ballads,  not  so  much  for  their 
artistic  merits,  as  for  their  simplicity,  artlessness, 
and  heartiness.  He  should  study  the  little  gushes 
of  song,  that  are  scattered  like  gems  here  and  there, 
in  the  pages  of   Shakspeare ;    wonderful  composi- 


304  HOIVITLETICS. 

tions,  which,  in  the  midst  of  the  complexity  and 
combinations  of  the  mighty  drama,  strike  the 
mind,  very  much  as  the  sweet  liquid  notes  of  the 
human  voice  fall  upon  the  ear,  in  the  lull  of  the 
tumult  of  the  orchestra, — musical  as  golden  bells 
heard  in  the  silence  of  the  band.  He  should  study 
the  songs  of  Burns,  until  he  feels  their  immeasu- 
rable superiority  to  the  artificial  sentiment,  and 
melody  of  Thomas  Moore. 

In  the  second  j^lace,  while  seeking  this  knowl- 
edge of  the  nature  of  lyric  poetry  from  2)rofane  lite- 
rature, the  clergyman  should  examine,  very  care- 
fully, the  lyric  poetry  of  the  Christian  Church. 
Doctor  Johnson  has  asserted  that  devotional  poetry 
not  only  does  not  please,  but,  from  the  nature  of  the 
case,  cannot  please.  Probably,  this  is  the  greatest 
blunder  ever  made  by  a  critic.  For  what  judgment 
could  be  more  erroneous,  than  that  religious  feel- 
ing, the  purest  and  highest  form  of  emotion,  is  in- 
compatible with  a  melodious  utterance  of  itself. 
The  fact  that,  universally,  the  higher  we  ascend  in 
the  scale  of  existence,  the  more  rhythmical,  melodi- 
ous, and  harmonious,  we  find  every  thing  becoming, 
would  lead  to  the  exactly  contrary  judgment,  and 
to  the  afiirmation  that  the  sacred  ode  is,  in  its  own 
nature,  as  much  superior  to  the  secular,  as  the  ideas 
of  eternity  are  grander  than  those  of  time,  and  the 
emotions  of  heaven  hio-her  than. those  of  earth. 

The  preacher  must  begin  the  study  of  sacred 
lyrics,  by   imbuing  his   mind  with   the   spirit   of 


LITUEGICAL   CULnVATION.  305 

Hebrew  poetry.  If  a  man  like  Milton  drew  inspi- 
ration from  this  source,  for  the  purposes  of  his 
merely  human  art,  most  certainly  should  the  preacher 
go  to  it  for  liturgical  culture.  The  lyric  writers  of 
the  Christian  Church  have  been  distinguished  for 
excellence,  in  2:)roportion  as  they  have  reproduced 
the  Hebrew  Psalter,  in  the  forms  of  modern  metri- 
cal composition.  The  finest  hymns  of  Watts  are 
Hebrew,  in  their  matter  and  spirit.  Modern  poetry, 
it  is  true,  exhibits  a  variety  in  its  forms,  that  ren- 
ders it  a  more  complex  and  elaborate  portion  of  lite- 
rature, tlian  Hebrew  poetry;  but  it  is  far  inferior 
to  the  Hebrew,  in  respect  to  the  Ip'ical  tone, — espe- 
cially that  solemn  lyrical  tone,  which  alone  is  suited 
to  the  sanctuary.  The  modern  poet  must  go  to 
the  song  of  Deborah,  and  the  psalms  of  David,  for 
triumphant  and  jubilant  praise,  for  the  "  seven-fold 
chorus  of  hallelujahs,  and  harping  symphonies." 

Next  in  order,  the  preacher  ought  to  study  the 
hymns  of  the  Patristic,  and  the  Mediaeval  Church. 
His  examination  of  these  should  be  discriminatiucr, 
as  his  examination  of  the  Fathers  and  the  School- 
men themselves,  should  be.  The  modern  theologian 
and  preacher,  too  generally,  has  committed  an  error 
in  regard  to  this  portion  of  Chiistian  history.  He 
has  either  nesjlected  these  ajjes  altosjether,  or  else 
he  has  devoted  an  exclusive  and  extravagant  atten- 
tion to  them.  Both  of  these  periods  belong  to  the 
history  of  the  Cliristian  Church,  and,  as  such,  in 
their  proper  place,  deserve  and  challenge  the  atten 
20 


306  HOMILETICS. 

tioii  of  the  Modern.  They  contain,  as  every  thing 
human  does,  a  mixture  of  truth  and  error;  and, 
probably,  a  more  confused  and  remarkable  mixture 
than  other  ages.  This  characteristic  aj^pears  in 
their  Hymnology.  Some  of  the  Greek  hymns  of 
Synesius,  for  examj^le,  are  a  mixture  of  pantheism 
and  theism.  The  piercing  wail  of  guilt,  and  cry 
for  mercy,  is  blended  with  the  dim  and  dreamy 
worship  of  mere  naturalism.  Much  of  the  later 
devotional  poetry  of  the  Latin  Church,  is  vitiated 
by  Mariolatry  and  saint  worship.  But  such  grand 
chants  as  the  Gloria  in  excelsis,  and  the  Te  Deum 
laudamus^  if  frequently  read  and  meditated  in  the 
sounding  and  rhythmical  Latin,  lift  up  the  mind  for 
praise  and  adoration,  like  the  pealing  tones  of  an 
organ,  and  impart  a  craving  for  simple  and  lofty 
verse,  in  the  sanctuary.  The  solemn  majesty  and 
mystery  of  the  Trinity,  as  ex23ressed  in  the  hymns 
of  Hilary  and  Ambrose,  awe  the  soul  in  profound 
reverence  and  self-abasement;  while  the  earnest 
and  vivid  Christology  of  St.  Bernard,  imbues  the 
heart  with  a  tender  and  precatory  feeling.  The 
two  greatest  lyrics  of  the  Mediaeval  Church,  are 
the  Stabat  Mater  and  the  Dies  irce.  The  former 
exhibits  too  much  of  the  peculiar  doctrine  of 
Komanism,  in  combination  with  gospel  truth,  to 
be  expressive  of  a  pure  religious  feeling;  but  the 
Dies  irce  is  a  most  spiritual  utterance  of  human 
guilt,  without  any  reference  to  the  intercession  of 
the  saints,  or  of  the  Virgin  Mother.      This  latter 


LITTJEGICAL   CULTIVATION.  307 

hymn  is  worthy  of  the  frequent  perusal  of  any 
Protestant.  It  is  sometimes  employed  in  Protestant 
services,  on  the  Continent  of  Europe.  Tholuck,  in 
a  note  to  one  of  his  sermons,  alludes  to  the  sensation 
produced  by  the  singing  of  this  hymn,  in  the 
University  Church  at  Halle,  and  remarks,  that  "  the 
impression  w^hich  was  made  by  the  last  words,  as 
sung  by  the  University  choir  alone,  Avill  be  for- 
gotten by  no  one."  An  American  clergyman  who 
happened  to  be  present  on  this  occasion,  says  that 
"  it  was  impossible  to  refrain  from  tears,  when,  at 
the  seventh  stanza,  all  the  trumpets  ceased,  and  the 
choir,  accompanied  by  a  softened  tone  of  the  organ, 
suno;  those  touchino;  lines  : 

Quid  sum  misei'  tunc  dicturus? 
Quern  patronum  rogaturus, 
Cum  vix  Justus  sint  securus?" 

The  Hymnology  of  the  German  Church  is  ex- 
tremely rich.  Some  of  the  hymns  of  Luther,  and 
Paul  Gerhard,  stand  second  to  none  in  all  the 
Christian  centuries.  But  the  English  Hymnology 
must,  of  course,  receive  most  attention  from  the 
preacher,  in  order  to  a  proper  liturgical  cultivation. 
It  is  the  product  of  that  English  mind  in  whose 
characteristics  he  shares,  and  belongs  to  that  English 
literature  which  has  done  more  than  any  other,  to 
make  and  mould  him,  intellectually,  and  morally. 
There  is  much  religious  poetry,  and  some  of  it  lyric, 
composed  by  the  writers  of  Elizabeth's  age,  that 


308  HOiULETICS. 

deserves  constant  and  careful  perusal.  The  works 
of  Spenser,  Raleigh,  Ben  Jonson,  Herbert,  Yauglin, 
Herrick,  Drummond,  and  Milton,  contain  devotional 
hymns  of  higli  merit,  both  as  respects  matter  and 
form;  and  lie  who  looks  tkrougk  a  collection  of 
English  poetry,  like  that  of  Chalmers,  for  example, 
vvdll  be  surprised  to  discover,  here  and  there,  a 
religious  lyi'ic  breathing  a  most  j)enitential  or  ado- 
ring spiiit,  in  the  very  midst  of  the  most  earthly 
and  perhaps  erotic  poetry.^ 

The  Hymn-Book  of  the  Church  to  which  he 
ministers  should,  however,  receive  most  of  the  clerg}^- 
man's  study.  After  deducting  all  the  prosaic  matter 
that  is  to  be  found  in  it,  there  still  remains  a 
large  remainder  of  genuine  lyric  poetry.  With 
this  the  preacher  ought  to  be  intimately  familiar,  oc- 
casionally enlivening  his  own  discourse,  with  a  glow- 
ing, or  a  swelling,  or  a  thrilling  stanza,  and  always 
selecting  for  purposes  of  worship,  those  hymns 
which,  while  they  give  vivid  and  vital  expression 
to  Christian  emotions  and  affections,  also  "  voluntary 
move  harmonious  numbers."  That  acquaintance 
with  the  denominational  Hymn-Book,  and  that  deep 
interest  in  it,  which  are  seen  in  the  Methodist  clergy 
and  the  Methodist  Church,  deserve  to  be  imitated 
by  all.  It  is  a  much  safer,  and  more  truly  rational 
interest,  thail  that  which  some  clergies  and  denomi- 
nations show  towards  formularies  of  worship.    The 

'Hereiok,  and  Deummond  of  Hawthornden,  afford  examples. 


LITUEGIOAL    CULTIVATIOIT.  309 

hymns  of  Cliaiies  "Wesley,  tlie  sweet  singer  of  Meth- 
odism, have  (lone  much  towards  the  production  of 
that  peculiar  intensity  of  the  religious  life  in  Meth- 
odism, which  led  Chalmers  to  define  it,  as  "  Chris- 
tianity in  earnest."  By  thus  studying  the  Hym- 
nology  of  the  Chui'ch, — of  the  Jewish,  and  the 
entire  Christian  Church, — the  preacher  is  to  obtain 
that  taste  and  feeling  for  sacred  l}Tic  j)oetry,  which 
will  guide  him,  as  by  a  sure  instinct,  to  the  choice 
of  the  best  and  most  appropriate  hymns. 

Without  laying  down  a  rule  to  be  servilely 
followed,  perhaps,  the  choice  of  hymns  for  public 
worship  should  be  somewhat  as  follows.  The  first 
hymn  should  be  one  of  general  praise,  serving  to 
inspire  feelings  of  worship  and  adoration  towards 
God,  as  the  Being  to  be  worshipped.  The  second 
may  be  either  of  the  same  character  as  the  fii'st, 
or,  may  refer  to  the  discourse  which  is  to  follow. 
The  third  and  last  hymn  should  have  this  reference. 
"Whether  the  second  hymn  should  be  didactic,  or 
not,  will  depend  upon  the  character  of  the  sermon. 
Probably,  in  the  majority  of  instances,  the  first  and 
second  hymns  should  be  strictly  liturgical,  ofl:ering3 
of  praise  and  thanksgiving ;  the  last  hymn,  alone, 
being  didactic  and  applicatory  of  the  sermon. 

3.  The  third  topic  under  the  head  of  Liturgies, 
is  Prayer.  This  subject  deserves  a  fuller  treatment, 
than  is  possible  within  these  limits.  Bishop  Wil- 
kius,  Dr.  AVatts,  and  Witsius,  have  composed  very 
sensible  treatises  upon  it,  but  a  good  work,  suited 


310  HOMTLETICS. 

to  the  wants  of  tliose  Protestant  chtirclies  wMcli 
use  extemporaneous  prayers,  is  still  a  desideratum. 
The  following  rules  involve,  perlia]3s,  the  principal 
points  to  be  regarded  by  the  clergyman,  in  his  pub- 
lic petitions. 

First,  he  ought  to  study  metliod  in  prayer,  and 
observe  it.  A  prayer  should  have  a  plan,  as  much 
as  a  sermon.  In  the  recoil  from  the  formalism  of 
written  and  read  prayers,  Protestants  have  not  paid 
sufficient  attention  to  an  orderly,  and  symmetrical 
structure,  in  public  supplications.  Extemporaneous 
prayer,  like  extemporaneous  preaching,  is  too  often 
the  product  of  the  single  instant,  instead  of  devout 
reflection,  and  premeditation.  It  might,  at  first 
glance,  seem  that  premeditation  and  supplication 
are  incongruous  conceptions  ;  that  prayer  must  be 
a  gush  of  feeling,  without  distinct  reflection.  This 
is  an  error.  No  man,  no  creature,  can  pray  well 
without  knowing  what  he  is  praying  for,  and  whom 
he  is  praying  to.  Every  thing  in  prayer,  and  espe- 
cially in  public  prayer,  ought  to  be  well  considered 
and  well  w^eiorhed.^ 

So  far  as  concerns  the  method,  and  j)lan  of 
prayer,  in  the  sanctuary,  the  following  from  Bishop 
Wilkins's  treatise,  is  judicious.  The  first  thing  in 
a  form  of  prayer  is  the  preface :  consisting  first,  of 
the  titles  of  invocation,  together  with  some  l)rief 

'  CnALMEKS  was  accustomed,     offer.     See  Appendix  B.   to  the 
occasionally,    to    write    out  the     second  volume  of  his  Life, 
prayer  in  full,  -which  he  was  to 


LITUKGICAL    CULTIVATION.  311 

amplification  of  them,  mostly  in  Scripture  phraseol- 
ogy, sufficient  to  impress  the  Divine  character,  upon 
the  mind  iDoth  of  him  who  leads,  and  those  who 
accompany,  in  public  worship;  secondly,  of  some 
general  acknowledgment  of  personal  unworthiness ; 
and,  thirdly,  of  suj^plication  for  the  Divine  assist- 
ance, and  attention.  After  this  preface,  follow  the 
principal  ^Xif/'/.^  of  prayer:  1,  confession  ;  2,  petition; 
3,  thanksgiving.  The  order  in  which  these  come, 
is  not  uniform.  There  will  be»transposition,  accord- 
ing to  circumstances.  In  some  prayers,  confession 
will  predominate ;  in  others  petition ;  in  others 
thanksgiving.  The  j^reacher  should  study  his 
prayer,  in  order  that  he  may  vary,  and  change, 
with  the  circumstances  in  which  he  is  called  to  offi- 
ciate. Some  clergymen  pray  but  one  prayer, 
through  their  whole  ministry.  It  contains  just  so 
.much  preface,  and  just  so  much  confession,  petition, 
and  thanksgiving,  and  always  in  the  same  order. 
In  reality,  it  is  a  form,  which  is  repeated  from  habit 
and  memoriter.  It  is  destitute  of  the  excellences 
of  written  prayers,  and  yet  is  as  monotonous,  and 
uniform,  as  they  are. 

Secondly,  the  clergyman  must  avoid  verbiage 
and  repetition^  in  prayer.  "  Vain  repetitions  "  are 
denounced  by  our  Saviour,  and  although  he  proba- 
bly referred  primarily,  to  conscious  and  intended 
repetitions,  the  spirit  of  his  direction  would  exclude 
that  thoughtless,  and  indolent  reiteration  of  the 
same  thoughts,  wliicli  is  one  of  the  principal  faults 


312  HOMILETICS. 

in  extemporaueous  prayers.     It  is  better  to  stop, 
even  before  tlie  time  allotted  to  prayer  has  expired, 
than  to  attempt  to  fill  it  np  witb  verbiage.     In  this 
connection,  the  habit  of   didactically   discoursing 
in  prayer,  should  be  guarded  against.     The  suppli- 
ant for  the  Divine  mercy,  sometimes  turns  into  the 
instructor  of  the  Divine  omniscience.     The  clergy- 
man should  ever  remember  that  God  "  knows  what 
we  have  need  of,  before  we  ask  Him,"  and  not  en- 
large, and  explain  to  Him.     No  one  can  do  this, 
while  under  a  realizing  sense  of  the  character  of 
Him,  with  whom  he  has  to  do.     It  is  only  when 
the  clergyman  forgets  God,  and  addresses  the  con- 
gregation, that  the  prayer  degenerates  into  a  sermon. 
Thirdly,  the  preacher  must  study  directness  in 
matter,  and  manner.     This  does  not  imply  familiar- 
ity, but  simple  earnestness,  in  the  creature's  address 
to  the  throne  of  grace.     Familiarity  is  the  worst  of 
faults  in  prayer.     Circumlocution,  paraphrase,  and 
rejDetition,  are  not  so  reprehensible,  as  an  irreverent 
approach  to  the  Eternal  Jehovah.    On  the  contrary, 
a  direct  address  to  God  is  commanded,  and  is  proper, 
in  the  creature.     The  suppliant  should  first  know 
clearly  what  he  needs,  and  what  he  wants,  and 
the  more  importunate  his  entreaty,  the  more  imme- 
diate his  petition  for  it,  the  more  appropriate  and 
acceptable  is  his  prayer.     One  chief  reason  why 
supplication  for  spiiitual  blessings,  such  as  the  con- 
version of  men,  is  not  answered,  lies  in  the  fact,  that 
too  often  there  is  no  clear  understanding  of  the 


LITUKGICAL   CULTIVATIOIT.  313 

nature  of  tlie  blessing,  and  no  direct  petition  for  it. 
That  Being  wlio  searclies  the  heart,  and  knows  tlie 
entire  conscionsness  of  the  man  in  the  attitude  of 
prayer,  sees  that  there  is  no  distinct  conception 
of  the  thing  implored,  therefore  no  strong  desire, 
and  therefore  no  strong  cry  and  supplication. 
Such  a  prayer  is  continually  discoursing  about  the 
topic,  or  enlarging  upon  the  blessing,  but  does 
not  ash  for  it.  "Ask,"  really  aslc^  "and  ye  shall 
receive." 

The  clergyman  should  not  only  sckool  himself 
in  respect  to  this  point,  but  he  should  school  bis 
church  likewise.  A  word  upon  this  topic,  thougb 
not  strictly  in  place,  in  this  connection,  may  perhaps 
be  allowable.  There  is  nothing  which  infuses  such 
life  into  the  prayer-meeting,  as  earnestness  and 
directness.  In  times  of  awakened  reliorious  feelins:, 
this  characteristic  appears.  Tbe  same  blessings 
that  have  been  the  subject  matter  of  prayer,  for 
many  years  it  may  be,  are  still  prayed  for ;  there  is 
no  great  change  in  the  general  phraseology  of  the 
petitioners;  but  their  minds  are  awake,  and  they 
now  know  what  they  need,  and  what  they  desire, 
and  a  direct,  earnest,  and  comparatively  brief  prayer 
is  tlie  consequence.  The  clergyman,  by  his  own 
examj^le,  and  if  need  be  by  precept,  should  seek  to 
impress  this  characteristic  upon  his  church,  so  that 
the  assemblings  together  for  meditation  and  prayer 
may  be  ej6S.cacious  means  of  grace,  and  of  blessing. 
lie  ought  to  cultivate,  in  the  minds  and  hearts  of 


314  noJULETics. 

Christians,  a  disi)Ositioii  to  be  distinct,  direct,  sin- 
cere, and  brief,  in  suj)plication. 

In  tliis  way,  tlie  number  of  tliose  wlio  partici- 
pate in  tliis  exercise,  will  become  mucli  greater  tlian 
it  now  is.  Tlie  entire  cliurcli  will  pray,  instead  of 
a  few  persons ;  tliere  will  be  more  variety  in  tbe 
petitions,  and  more23ertinencyin  them ;  and,  through 
the  action  and  reaction  of  mind  uj)on  mind,  greater 
fervor  and  sincerity  will  mark  the  devotional  services 
of  the  Christian  brotherhood. 

"We  have  thus  passed  rapidly  over  the  depart- 
ment of  Liturgies ;  touching  upon  those  j)rincipal 
•topics  which  are  connected  with  worship,  as  distin- 
guished from  discourse,  or  address,  to  the  audience. 
The  subject  deserves  special  attention,  from  the 
clergy  of  a  simple  ritual.  The  impressiveness,  and 
effectiveness  of  non-liturgical  worship,  must  depend, 
mainly,  upon  the  taste  and  judgment  of  the  indi- 
vidual clergyman.  He  has  no  fixed,  and  imposing 
forms,  by  which  to  be  guided,  inevitably,  in  the 
conduct  of  public  worship.  He,  therefore,  specially 
needs  a  judicious  discipline,  in  this  direction, — a 
liturgical  culture  obtained  in  the  general  mannei 
that  has  been  indicated.  The  clergyman,  then,  car- 
ries his  rule  with  him.  He  has  an  unwritten  liturgy, 
in  his  own  cultivated  and  pure  taste,  which  he  is  at 
perfect  liberty  to  vary,  with  times  and  circum- 
stances. One  who  has  acquired  this  true  liturgical 
Reuse  and  feeling,  will  render  the  services  of  the 
sanctuary  impressive,  by  tlieir  appropriateness,  by 


LITUEGICAL   CULTIVATION  315 

tlieir  symmetiy,  and  by  that  unity  wliicli  we  have 
seen  to  be  the  inmost'  essence  of  beauty.  "Without 
drawing  away  the  attention  of  the  congregation 
from  more  imj)ortant  matters,  as  a  formal  and  splen- 
did ritual  is  apt  to  do,  such  a  minister  will  throw  a 
sacred,  and  spiritual  atmosphere,  over  the  entire 
services  of  the  sanctuaiy,  more  impressive  than 
even  the  dim  religious  light  of  the  cathedral. 


PASTORAL  THEOLOGY. 


PASTORAL    THEOLOGY. 


CHAPTER    I. 

DEFINITIOX    OF    PASTORAL    THEOLOGY. 

It  is  a  convenient,  and  accurate  classification, 
wliicli  clistiuo-iiislies  the  scientifia-part  of  clerical 
discipline,  from  the  practical.  JAII  that  side  of 
the  clergyman's  training,  'wliich  relates  to  strictly 
theoretic  branches, — for  example,  to  philology,  phi- 
losophy, and  theology, — falls  under  the  denomination 
of  theological  science ;  while  all  that  part  which  re- 
lates to  the  public  application  of  this  theoretic  cul- 
ture, is  practical  theology<=4rrhe  subject  of  Ilomiletics 
would  therefore  be  comprehended  under  this  latter, 
because  sermonizing  is  the  popular  presentation  of 
theological  science.  Sacred  Rhetoric  supposes  that 
the  speculative  principles  of  the  Christian  religion 
have  been  previously  mastered,  by  means  of  studies, 
and  methods,  that  are  more  al)stract  than  its  own. 


320  PASTORAL   TKEOLOGT. 

Having  been  made  a  tlieologian,  by  the  severer 
training,  and  the  more  fundamental  discipline,  the 
clergyman  is  then  to  be  made  an  orator,  by  tbe  more 
popular  and  practical  culture  of  Homiletics. 

But,  tbe  clergyman  bears  still  another  character, 
and  performs  still  another  kind  of  labor,  which  like- 
wise belongs  to  the  practical  side  of  his  profession. 
He  is  not  only  a  preacher,  whose  function  it  is  to 
impart  public  instruction  before  an  audience,  but 
he  is  also  2ipast07\  whose  office  it  is,  to  give  private 
and  personal  advice  from  house  to  house,  and  to 
make  his  influence  felt  in  the  social  and  domestic 
life  of  his  congregation.  The  clergyman  is  an 
orator,  and  therefore  needs  the  homiletical  educa- 
tion that  corresponds.  He  is  also  a  pastor,  and 
hence  requires  the  special  discipline  that  qualifies 
him  to  watch  over  the  personal  religious  interests 
of  his  flock.  It  is  the  object  of  the  department  of 
Pastoral  Theology,  to  prepare  him  for  this  part  of 
his  work.  The  formation  of  clerical  character,  and 
the  discharge  of  strictly  parish  duties,  are,  then,  the 
principal  topics  in  this  branch  of  inquiry. 

jfAVe  deflne  Pastoral  Theology  to  be,  that  part  of 
the"  clerical  curriculum  which  relates  to  the  clergy- 
man's ^parochial  life.  \  It  contemplates  him  in  his 
more  retired  capacity,  as  one  who  has  the  care  of 
individual  souls.  The  pastor  is  a  curate^  and  Pas 
toral  Theology  relates  to  the  clergyman's  curacy. 
These  terms,  which  are  not  so  familiar  to  the 
American  as  to  the  English  ear,  if  taken  in  their 


DEFIXITIOIf.  321 

etymological  signification,  denote  precisely  the 
more  private  character  and  duties  of  tlie  clergy- 
man. They  are  derived  from  the  Latin  curare^  to 
take  care  of.  A  curate  is  one  who  has  the  care  of 
souls.^  The  apostle  Paul  speaks  of  "  watching  for 
souls."  The  pastor,  or  curate,  is  a  watcher  for 
souls. 

Having  regard,  then,  as  it  does,  to  this  impor- 
tant side  of  the  clerical  vocation,  and  these  impor- 
tant aspects  of  clerical  labor,  the  dei^artment  of 
Pastoral  Theology  deserves  very  careful  study.  In 
its  own  place,  it  is  as  necessary  to  a  complete 
professional  discipline,  as  the  more  imposing  de- 
pai^tments  of  sacred  philology,  and  dogmatic  the- 
ology. Imperfect  education,  in  respect  to  the 
pastoral  and  parochial  duties  of  the  clergyman, 
must  lead  to  the  neglect  of  them ;  and  this  will 
seriously  impair  his  influence,  and,  in  the  review  of 
his  ministry,  awaken  many  poignant  regrets.  Tlie 
limits  of  this  treatise  do  not  allow  more  than  the 
briefest  discussion,  of  a  few  cardinal  points ;  but  we 
feel  that  we  shall  have  accomplished  much,  even  if 
we  should  do  nothing  more  than  direct  attention  to 
the  well-known  work  of  Richard  Baxter.  The 
Reformed  Pastor  of  this  wonderful  and  successful 
minister,  should  be  read  through  once  in  each  year, 
by  every  clergyman.  "  If,"  says  John  Angell  James, 
"  I  may,  without  impropriety,  refer  to  the  service 


'  Tho  German  Seelsorger  expresses  the  same  idea. 
21 


322  PASTOEAL   THEOLOGY. 

wliich,  during  iifty-foiir  years,  I  have  been  allowed 
to  render  to  our  great  Master,  I  would  express  my 
thankfulness  in  being  able,  in  some  small  degree,  to 
rejoice  that  the  conversion  of  sinners  has  been  my 
aim.  I  have  made,  next  to  the  Bible,  Baxter's 
Beformed  Pastor  my  rule,  as  regards  the  object  of 
my  ministry.' 


.511 


^  A  valuable  collection  in  one    has  been  published  at  Oxford,  by 
volume,  of  tracts  and    treatises    Eivington  &  Co. 
pertaining  to  Pastoral  Theology, 


CHAPTER    11. 

RELIGIOUS   CHARACTER  AND    HABITS   OF  THE    CLERGYMAN. 

The  foundation  of  influence  in  parocliial  life  is 
in  the  clergyman's  character,  and  the  root  of  clerical 
character  is  piety.  The  first  theme,  consequently, 
that  demands  attention,  in  the  discussion  of  the 
subject  of  Pastoral  Theology,  is  the  religious  clm- 
racter^  and  habits^  of  the  clergyman. 

The  calling  and  profession  of  the  clergyman  de- 
mand eminent  spirituality.  An  ordinary  excellence 
is  not  sufficient.  The  Chiistian  minister,  by  his  very 
vocation,  is  the  sacred  man  in  society.  By  his  very 
position,  he  is  forbidden  to  be  a  secular  member  of 
community,  and  hence  he  must  not  be  secidar,  either 
in  his  character  or  his  habits.  It  is  true,  that  the 
clergy  are  not  a  sacred  caste,  yet  they  are  a  sacred 
profession.  Hence,  society  expects  from  them  a 
ministerial  character  and  bearing,  and  respects  them 
just  in  proportion  as  they  possess  and  exhibit 
it.  The  clergyman  is  sometimes  called  the  "par- 
son." Though  the  word  has  fiillen  into  disuse, 
owing  to  the  contemptuous   employment  of  it,  by 


324  PASTOEAL    THEOLOGY. 

the  infidelity  of.  tlie  eigliteentli  century,  its  etymo- 
logy is  instructive  in  this  connection.  Parson  is 
derived  from  the  Latin  ijersona.  The  clergyman  is 
the  person,  by  way  of  emphasis,  in  his  parish.  He 
is  the  marked  and  peculiarly  religious  man,  in  the 
community.^  His  very  position  and  vocation,  there- 
fore, make  it  incumbent  upon  him  to  be  eminently 
spiritual.  His  worldly  support  is  j^rovided  by  the 
Church,  to  whom  he  ministers,  and  his  accej)tance 
of  it  is  an  acknowledgement  upon  his  part,  that  a 
secular  life  is  unsuitable  for  him,  and  a  demand  upon 
their  part,  that  he  devote  himself  entirely  to  reli- 
gion, and  be  an  example  to  the  flock.  Every  cler- 
gyman ought  to  be  able  to  say  to  his  congregation, 
with  the  sincerity,  and  the  humility,  with  which  St. 
Paul  said  it  to  the  Thessalonians,  "  Ye  are  wit- 
nesses, and  God  also,  how  holily,  and  justly,  and 
unblamably  we  behaved  ourselves  among  you." 

Not  only  does  the  ministerial  calling  and  profes- 
sion require  eminent  piety,  but  it  tends  to  produce 
it.  By  his  very  position,  the  clergyman  is  greatly 
assisted  in  attaining  to  a  suj^erior  grade  of  Chris- 
tian character,  and  if,  therefore,  he  is  a  worldly  and 
unspiritual  man,  he  is  deeply  culpable.  For,  so  far 
as  his  active  life  is  concerned,  his  proper  professional 
business  is  religious.  V<The  daily  labor  of  the  clergy- 

'  One  reference,  also,  was  to  the  cd,  and  ]ie  is  himself  a  body  cor- 

temporalitiesof  the  Church.  "He  porate,  in  order  to  protect  and 

is  called  parson  (^J6rA"o«a),because,  defend  the  rights  of  the  Church, 

by  his  person,  the  Church,  wliich  -which  he  personates." 
is  an  invisible  body,  is  represent- 


RELIGIOUS    CIIAEACTEE.  325 

man  is  as  truly  and  exclusively  religious,  as  that  of 
tLe  farmer  is  a^rricultural,  or  that  of  the  merchant 
is  mercantilej^  This  is  highly  fovorable  to  spirit- 
uality. Ought  not  one  to  grow  in  grace,  whose  daily 
avocations  briuij;  him  into  communication  with  the 
anxious,  the  thoughtful,  the  convicted  soul,  the  re- 
joicing heart,  the  bereaved,  the  sick,  and  the  dying  ? 
Outrht  not  that  man  to  advance  in  the  love  and 
knowledge  of  God,  whose  regular  occupation  from 
day  to  day  it  is,  to  become  acquainted  with  the  strict- 
ly religious  wants,  and  CQiidition  of  the  community, 
and  to  minister  to  them  ?'  If  the  daily  avocations  of 
the  mechanic  have  a  natural  tendency  to  make  him 
ingenious,  and  inventive,  if  the  daily  avocations  of 
the  merchant  tend  to  make  him  enterprising,  and 
adventurous,  do  not  the  daily  avocations  of  the 
clergyman  tend  to  make  him  devoutj^j  The  influ- 
ence of  active  life  uj^on  character  is,  in  its  own  place 
and  manner,  as  great  as  that  of  contemplative  life. 
A  man  is  unconsciously  moulded  and  formed  by  his 
daily  routine  of  duties,  as  really  as  by  the  books  he 
reads,  or  the  sciences  he  studies.  Hence,  a  fiiithful 
performance  of  clerical  duties  contributes  directly 
to  spirituality. 

Again,  so  far  as  the  contemplative  life  of  the 
clergyman  is  concerned,  his  profession  is  favorable 
to  superior  piety.  In  discussiug  the  subject  of 
Ilomiletics,  we  have  seen  that  the  clergyman,  in 
order  to  successful  sermonizing,  must  absorb  him- 
self in  theology,  must  induce  and  maintain  a  theo- 


326  PASTOEAL   THEOLOGY. 

logical  mood,  must  acquire  the  liomiletic  spirit  and 
talent,  and  make  all  liis  culture  subservient  to 
preaching.  But  sucli  a  life  as  this,  from  day  to  day, 
naturally  affects  the  moral  character^  The  studies 
of  the  theologian,  and  preacher,  work  directly  to- 
wards the  growth  of  piety.  ^\  Those  who  unduly 
magnify  the  practical,  to  the  undervaluation  of  the 
doctrinal  and  theoretic,  in  theology,  are  wont  to 
make  the  objection,  that  study  is  unfavorable  to 
devotion.  There  cannot  be  a  more  erroneous  judg- 
ment than  this.  The  studious,  thoughtful  Christian 
is  always  more  unworldly  and  sincere,  than  the 
Christian  who  reads  but  little,  and  thinks  still  less. 
The  j)astor  can  emjDloy  no  means  more  certain  to 
sanctify  his  flock,  than  reading  a:nd  reflection,  upon 
their  part.  Just  in  proportion  as  he  is  able  to  in- 
duce the  habit  of  studying  the  Scriptures,  and  of 
perusing  religious  and  doctrinal  books,  ^vill  he 
spiritualize  the  church  to  which  he  ministers. 

This  is  equally  true  of  the  clergyman.  Study, 
close,  persevering  study,  improves  his  religious  cha- 
racter. An  indolent  minister  is  not  a  spii'itually- 
minded  man.  He  who  neglects  his  library,  and 
passes  by  Biblical  and  theological  science,  to  occupy 
himself  with  the  frivolities  of  society,  or  with  the 
light  literature  of  the  day,  cannot  keep  his  mind 
and  heart  in  a  very  high  state  of  devotion.  There 
is  somethino;  in  a  re2:ular  routine  of  careful  investiga- 
tion,  eminently  fitted  to  deepen  and  strengthen  the 
reliarious  character.     The  mind  converses  with  solid 


EELIGI0U3    CHAKACTER.  32V 

verities,  aucl  is  thereby  preserved  from  "\vliat  the 
Scriptures  call  "vain  imaginations."  It  does  not 
ramble  and  Avander  in  the  fields  of  fancy,  but  is  busy 
with  sober,  serious  truth.  How  much  more  favora- 
ble to  the  growth  of  piety  is  such  a  studious  life, 
than  an  indolent  and  day-dreaming  one,'  For  the 
mind  must  do  something.  If  it  is  not  occupied  with 
great  and  good  themes,  then  it  will  be  busy  with 
small  and  frivolous  ones.  This  is  specially  true  of 
the  clergyman.  He  has  no  secular  occupations  to 
encrross  him,  like  those  of  the  farmer,  the  mechanic, 
and  the  merchant.  |He  does  not  rise  up  in  the 
morning,  and  ^o  out  among  men,  to  his  work,  until 
the  evening.  JHis  time  is  all  at  his  own  disposal, 
and  if  he  does  not  devote  it,  with  fidelity,  to  the  ac- 
tive and  contemplative  duties  of  his  profession,  it 
will  hang  upon  his  hands.  |.  The  consequence  will 
be,  a  restless,  vagrant,  and  inefiicient  mental  action. 
So  far  as  his  intellect  is  concerned,  he  will  di'as:  out 
a  feeble  and  unhappy  life.  And  is  this  favorable 
to  growth  in  holiness  ?  Is  this  the  sort  of  mortifi- 
cation that  is  profitable  to  godliness  ?  It  is  no 
more  j^rofitable  than  the  dull,  paralytic  existence  of 
the  monk,  in  his  dark,  damp  cell. 

The  fact  is,  that  the  holiest  men,  in  the  Christian 
Church,  have  been  the  most  studious  men.  Those 
spiritual  and  heavenly-minded  divines,  who  accom- 
plished most  in  the  ministry  of  their  o\vn  day,  and 
who  have  been  the  lights  and  guides  of  the  minis- 
try up  to  this  time,  were  men  of  great  learninf^. 


328  PASTORAL   THEOLOGY. 

Augustine,  Calvin,  Owen,  Baxter,  and  Edwards, 
were  hard  students.  Henry,  in  his  life  of  Calvin, — 
a  work  wliicli  deserves  to  be  read,  and  pondered,  by 
every  clergyman, — furnisbes  striking  examples  of 
tbe  studiousness  of  tbis  great,  and  intensely  spirit- 
ual man.  He  was  so  assiduous  in  completing  bis 
Institutes,  tbat  be  often  j)assed  wbole  nigbts  with- 
out sleeping,  and  days  without  eating.  Beza  re- 
marks, tbat  for  many  years  Calvin  took  only  one 
meal  a  day,  and  then  only  a  very  sparing  one, 
assigning,  as  a  reason,  the  weakness  of  bis  stomach. 
Though,  from  his  connection  with  tbe  Reformation 
generally,  and  bis  relation  to  tbe  Genevese  common- 
wealth particularly,  Calvin  was  compelled  to  jDcr- 
form  as  much  public  civil  labor  as  a  modern  secre- 
tary of  state,  he  yet  found  time  to  write  a  commen- 
tary upon  nearly  tbe  wbole  Bible,  to  carry  on  learned 
and  powerful  controversies  with  all  sorts  of  errorists 
and  heretics,  to  compose  a  system  of  divinity, 
which  has  exerted  more  influence  in  tbe  w^orld  than 
any  other  uninspired  production,  and,  besides  all 
tbis,  to  preach,  probably,  more  than  three  times  tbe 
number  of  sermons  delivered  by  tbe  minister  of  tbe 
present  day,  in  tbe  same  length  of  time.  Henry 
remarks  of  his  labors  at  Geneva,  tbat  in  addition 
to  bis  literary  employments,  such  as  the  composition 
of  treatises,  didactic  and  polemic,  and  an  extensive 
correspondence  with  kings  and  cabinet  ministers,  in 
behalf  of  the  Church,  he  had  to  attend  to  the  busi- 
ness of  the  court  of  morals,  or  the  consistory,  to 


EELiaiOUS   CHARACTER.  329 

that  arising  from  the  assembly  of  the  clergy,  and 
from  his  connection  with  the  congregation, — a  great 
amount  of  local,  legislative,  and  judicial  business. 
Three  days  in  the  week,  he  lectured  on  theological 
subjects,  and  every  alternate  week,  he  preached 
daily.  When  the  day  had  been  wholly  occupied 
in  business,  the  quiet  hours  of  the  night  remained 
to  him,  and,  allowing  himself  a  Inief  repose,  he 
would  continue  his  studies.  Writing  to  Farel  from 
Strasburg,  Calvin  says :  "  When  the  messenger 
was  ready  to  take  the  beginning  of  my  work,  witb 
this  letter,  I  had  about  twenty  leaves,  to  look 
through.  I  had,  tlien,  to  lecture  and  preach,  to 
write  four  letters,  make  peace  with  some  persons 
who  had  quarrelled  with  each  other,  and  answer 
more  than  ten  people,  who  came  to  me  for  advice. 
Forgive  me,  therefore,  if  I  write  only  briefly."^ 

Baxter  has  left  a  larger  body  of  theological 
composition,  for  the  use  of  the  Church,  than  any 
other  Eno-lisli  divine :  and  how  much  he  accom- 
plished,  in  the  way  of  preaching,  and  of  pastoral 
work,  is  well  known.  Though  his  early  education 
was  nesrlected,  and  he  did  not  receive  a  collecjiate 
training,  he  was  one  of  the  most  studious,  and 
learned  of  men.  lie  is  generally  known  by  Ms 
more  popular,  and  practical  writings,  and  one  who 
had  read  these  alone,  might  infer  tliat  Baxter  was 
distinguished  only  for  a  vivid  intellect,  and  a  zeal- 

> Henry:  Life  of  Calvin,  T.  p.  424. 


330  PASTOEAL   TnEOLOGY. 

ons  licai'fc.  But,  if  any  one  will  study  Lis  strictly 
theological  treatises,  lie  will  discover  evidence  in 
every  line,  of  the  most  severe  discipline,  and  the 
most  patient  and  extensive  reading.  Besides  the 
close  and  critical  study  of  the  Scrijotures,  in  the 
original  tongues,  Baxter  was  well  versed  in  the 
Pagan  theologies  and  j)hilosophies,  in  the  specula- 
tions of  the  Christian  Fatliers,  and  in  the  theology 
and  philosophy  of  both  the  Schoolmen,  and  the 
Keformers.  The  familiarity  ^vhich  Baxter  shows 
with  the  Scholastic  philosophy  and  theology,  is 
remarkable.  His  own  mind  was  eminently  analytic, 
and  one  of  the  Englisli  prelates  remarks  of  him, 
that  if  he  had  lived  in  the  Middle  Ages,  he  would 
have  been  one  of  the  Schoolnn^n.  The  plain,  una- 
dorned, and  pungent  periods  of  the  Saint's  Rest, 
and  the  Call  to  tlic  Unconverted,  came  from  a  mind 
that  was  entirely  master  of  the  subtle  metaphysics 
of  Thomas  Aquinas.^ 

Now  we  hold,  and  affirm,  that  this  severe  study 
fostered  the  piety  of  Calvin,  and  Baxter.  If  we 
could  suppose  that,  in  the  economy  of  grace,  the 
same  degree  of  Divine  influence  is  bestowed  without 
the  use  of  means,  as  is  bestowed  with  it,  and  should 
assume  the  existence  of  the  same  degree,  in  the 

'"  Next  to  prjictical  divinity,  brouglit  thiiiga  out  of  tlio  tliirk- 

no  books  bo  suited  witli  my  dis-  iicsa  of  coufusiou.    For  I  could 

position  US  Aquiims,  Scotus,  T)n-  never,  from  my  first  studios,  en- 

randuH,  Ockluun,  and  tlieir  disci-  dure  confusion."     Baxtkr  :  Nar- 

ples;  because  1  thought  tliey  ]uir-  rativo  of  ]iis  Life  and  Times, 
rowly  seurciied  after  truth,  and 


KELIGIOUS   CnARACTER.  331 

instances  of  Calvin  and  Baxter,  tliat  was  actually 
enjoyed  by  them,  wliile  subtracting  the  influence  of 
this  close  studiousness,  upon  their  Christian  charac- 
ter, it  would  undoubtedly  lose  much  in  depth,  tho- 
roughness, and  ripeness.  God  bestoAvs  a  blessing 
upon  intellectual  seriousness,  upon  devotion  to  good 
boohs,  and  upon  a  meditative  spirit.  It  is  tiiie, 
that  the  learned  man  is  oftentimes  proud  and  unevan- 
gelical,  but  would  ignorance  render  him  any  less  so? 
In  order  to  convert  a  proud  scholar,  into  a  meek 
and  lowly  Christian,  is  it  only  necessary  to  take 
away  his  library,  and  strij)  him  of  his  acquisitions? 
Zs  ignorance  the  mother  of  devotion  ? 

Having  thus  seen  that  the  clerical  calling,  and  pro- 
fession, itself  demands,  and  is  fovorable  to,  a  supe- 
rior religious  character,  we  proceed  to  mention  some 
practical  rules,  for  its  cultivation  in  the  clergyman. 

1.  The  first  rule  is  that  Avhich  is  to  be  given  in 
every  age,  and  clime,  to  all  grades  of  cultivation, 
and  all  varieties  of  occupation,  and  profession. 
That  which  is  the  first  maxim,  for  any  and  every 
Christian,  in  keeping  the  heart,  is  also  the  first  for 
the  cleigyman.  He  must  maintain  regular  liabits 
of  conununion  with  God,  in  prayer.  The  lettered 
Christian  is  more  liable  to  neglect  this  dut}',  and 
piivilege,  than  the  unlettered,  because  his  mind  is 
constantly  conversant  with  divine  truth,  and  he  is 
exposed  to  the  temptation  of  substituting  tliis,  for 
the  direct  expression  t)f  desires,  and  wants.  But,  in 
order  to  growth  in  religion,  it  is  not  enough  for 


332  PASTOEAL   THEOLOGY. 

liim  to  meditate  upon  tlie  Divine  character  and 
religious  doctrines ;  he  must  actually  address  God, 
in  supj^lication.  Undoubtedly,  a  serious  mood  may 
be  maintained,  by  being  familiar  with  great  and 
lofty  subjects,  especially  witb  the  deep  themes  of 
metaphysical  philosophy.  The  merely  natural  at- 
tributes of  the  Deity,  have  power  to  elevate,  and 
solemnize  the  human  mind.  Pantheism  itself,  intro- 
ducing the  soul  to  the  immensity  of  nature,  and 
bringing  it  imder  the  mysterious  impression  of 
vast  forces,  and  laws,  and  processes,  operating  in 
infinite  sj^ace  and  everlasting  time,  throws  a  shadow 
over  the  sj)irit,  and  renders  it  grave  in  its  temper. 
Spinoza  was  a  serious-minded  person ;  so  much  so, 
that  Novalis,  one  of  the  most  thous-htful  of  the  secu- 
lar  German  poets,  named  him  the  "  God-intoxicated 
man ;"  and  Schleiermacher  himself,  in  one  of  his 
Discourses  upon  Religion,  calls  him  the  "holy,  per- 
secuted Spinoza."^  But  the  very  delineation  of  his 
character  which  follows,  shows  that  this  solemnity 
of  Spinoza's  intellect  originated  in  the  awe,  and 
worship,  of  the  impersonal  Infinite, — a  worship 
that  is  meditative,  indeed,  but  never  supplicatory. 

But,  this  is  not  religion.  It  has  no  root  in  the 
knowledge,  and  acknowledgement,  of  the  I  am.  It 
never  holds  actual  communion,  with  the  living  and 
tnie  God.  Naturalism  never  prays.  There  is  no 
address^  of  one  person  to  another  person.     For,  this 

*  SoHLEiEEMAOHER  :  Eedeu  iiber  Religion,  p.  48. 


EELIGIOUS   CHARACTER. 


333 


commuuion  with  tlie  Infinite ;  this  "  mingling  with 
the  universe,"  and  feeling,  in  the  phrase  of  Byron, 
"what  one  cannot  express,  yet  cannot  all  conceal;" 
this  worship  of  mere  immensity ;  is  not  religion. 
There  is  no  personality,  upon  either  side.  The  man 
who  worships  loses  his  individuality,  and  the  God 
who  is  worshijoped  has  none  to  begin  with.^  And 
this  holds  true,  as  we  go  up  the  scale.  It  is  not 
sufficient  to  commune  with  the  truth;  for  truth  is 
impersonal.  We  must  commune  with  the  God  of 
truth.  It  is  not  enough  to  study,  and  ponder,  the 
contents  of  religious  books,  of  even  the  Bible  itself. 
We  must  actually  address  the  author  of  the  Bible, 
in  entreaties  and  petitions.^ 


*  That  there  can  be  no  peuitenco 
for  Bin,  and  confession,  in  panthe- 
ism, is  self-evident ;  and,  there- 
fore, so  far  as  this  is  an  element 
in  religion  for  man,  religion  is 
impossible  for  the  pantheist. 

'  Coleridge,during  that  panthe- 
istic period  in  his  mental  liistory, 
which  is  so  interesting  in  its  psy- 
chological aspects,  fell  into  tliis 
error  respecting  prayer,  hut  after- 
wards criticized,  and  corrected  it, 
with  a  depth  of  insiglit  into  the 
nature  of  prayer,  all  the  more  pro- 
found, i)erhaps,  for  the  previous 
experience.  A  writer  in  Tait's 
Magazine  informs  us,  tliat  on  his 
first  introduction  to  Coleridge, 
"ho  reverted  with  strong  com- 
punction, to  a  sentiment  which  ho 
had  expressed    in    earlier    days. 


upon  prayer.  In  one  of  his  youth- 
ful poems,  speaking  of  God,  he 
had  said, — 

Of  ■whose  all-seeing  eye, 

Aught  to  demand,  were   impotence  of 
niiud. 

This  sentiment  he  now  so  utterly 
condemned,  that,  on  the  contrary 
he  told  me,  as  his  own  peculiar 
opinion,  that  tlie  act  of  praying 
was  tho  very  highest  energy  of 
Avhich  tlio  human  heart  was  ca- 
pable, praying,  that  is,  with  tho 
total  concentration  of  the  facul- 
ties ;  and  tho  great  mass  of 
worldly  men,  and  of  learned  men, 
ho  pronounced  absolutely  inca- 
pable of  prayer."  Ilcnry  Nelson 
Coleridge  corroborates  this  state- 
ment, in  the  following  interest- 


334 


PASTOEAL   THEOLOGY. 


There  can,  consequently,  be  no  genuine  religion 
without  prayer.  And  the  degree  of  religion,  ^vill 
depend  upon  the  depth  and  heartiness  of  prayer. 
It  does  not  depend  so  much  upon  the  length,  as  the 
intensity  of  the  mental  activity.  A  few  moments 
of  real  and  absorbing  address  to  God,  will  accom- 
plish more  for  the  Christian,  in  the  way  of  arming 
him  with  spiritual  power,  than  days  or  years  of 
reflection,  without  it.  Hence,  the  power  of  ejacula- 
tory  prayer.  In  the  brief  instant,  the  eye  of  the 
creature  catches  the  eye  of  the  Creator,  glances  are 
exchanged,  and  the  Divine  power  and  blessing  flow 
down  into  the  soul.  It  is  this  direct  vision  of  God, 
and  this  direct  imploring  something  of  Him,  which 


ing  anecdote.  "  Mr.  Coleridge, 
within  two  years  of  his  death, 
very  solemnly  declared  to  me  his 
conviction  upon  the  same  subject. 
I  was  sitting  by  his  bedside,  one 
afternoon,  and  ho  fell,  an  unusual 
thing  for  him,  into  a  long  account 
of  many  passages  of  his  past  life, 
lamenting  some  things,  condemn- 
ing others,  but  complaining 
■withal,  though  very  gently,  of 
the  way  in  which  many  of  his 
most  innocent  acts  had  been 
cruelly  misrepresented.  '  But, 
I  have  no  difficulty,'  said  he,  'in 
forgiveness  ;  indeed,  I  know  not 
how  to  say,  Avith  sincerity,  the 
clause  in  the  Lord's  prayer,  which 
asks  forgiveness  as  wc  forgive.  I 
feel  nothing  answering  to  it  in 
my  heart.      Neither  do  I  find,  or 


reckon,  the  most  solemn  faith 
in  God,  as  a  real  object,  the  most 
arduous  act  of  the  reason  and  will. 
O  no,  my  dear,  it  is  to  peat,  to 
PEAT  as  God  would  have  us  ;  this 
is  what,  at  times,  makes  me  turn 
cold  to  my  soul.  Believe  me,  to 
pray  with  all  your  heart  and 
strength,  with  the  reason  and  the 
will,  to  believe  vividly  that  God 
will  listen  to  your  voice  through 
Christ,  and  verily  do  the  thing 
he  pleaseth,  thereupon, — this  is 
the  last,  the  greatest  achievement 
of  the  Christian's  warfare  upon 
earth.  Teach  us  to  pray,  0  Lord ! ' 
And  then  he  burst  into  a  flood  of 
tears,  and  begged  me  to  pray  for 
him."  Coleridge  :  Table  Talk, 
Works,  VI.  327 


KELIGIOUS   CHAEACTEE.  335 

renders  the  brief  broken  ejaculations  of  tne  martyr, 
so  su2:)poi'ting,  and  triumphant  over  flesli  and  blood, 
over  malice  and  torture.  Tlie  martyr  might  medi- 
tate never  so  intensely  and  long,  upon  the  omnipo- 
tence and  the  wisdom  of  God,  and  still  be  unable 
to  endure  the  flame,  and  the  rack.  But  the  single 
prayer,  "  Lord  Jesus,  receive  my  spirit,"  lifts  him 
high  above  the  region  of  agony,  and  irradiates  his 
countenance  with  the  lis-ht  of  an2:elic  faces. 

The  most  holy  and  S2)iritual  teachers  and  preach- 
ers, in  the  Church,  have  been  remarkable  for  the 
directness,  and  frequency  of  their  petitions.  They 
were  in  the  habit  of  praying  at  particular  times  in 
the  day,  and  also  of  ejaculatory  prayer.  Some  of 
them  began  the  day  with  hours  of  continuous  sup- 
plication, and  then  interspersed  their  labors  with 
brief  petitions.  Luthgi;  was  distinguished  for  the 
urgenc3L,UUid  frequency  of  his  supplications.  His 
maximf  hene  oras-se  est  heme  studuisse^^  fomiliar. 
So  easy  and  natural  was  it  for  him  to  pray,  that 
even  in  company  with  friends,  and  in  the  midst  of 
social  intercourse,  he  would  break  out  into  petitions. 
This  was  often  the  case,  in  times  of  trouble  to  the 
Church,  and  the  cause  of  the  Reformation.  God 
was  then  present,  without  intermission,  to  his 
anxious  and  strongly  exercised  soul,  and  hence 
he  talked  with  Ilim,  as  a  man  talketh  with  his 
friend.  The  peculiar  vigor,  and  vitality  of  Luther's 
religion,  should  be  traced,  not  solely  to  liis  recej^- 
tion  of  a  doctrine,  even  so  vital  a  doctrine  as  justi- 


336  PASTOEAL   THEOLOGY. 

fication   by   faitli,  but  to  direct  intercourse  with 
God. 

Consider,  again,  for  an  illustration,  the  Confes- 
sions of  Augustine, — the  most  remarkable  book, 
of  the  kind,  in  all  literature  ;  a  book,  in  wkick  the 
religious  experience  of  one  of  tlie  subtlest  and  deep- 
est of  human  minds,  allied  with  one  of  the  mightiest 
and  most  passionate  of  human  hearts,  is  portrayed 
in  letters  of  living  light.  But,  it  is  full  of  prayer. 
The  autobiography  is  intermingled,  all  through,  with 
petitions  and  supplications.  So  natural  had  it  be- 
come for  that  spiritual  and  holy  man,  to  betake  him- 
self to  his  God,  that  the  reader  feels  no  surprise,  at 
this  mixture  of  address  to  man  and  address  to  God. 
This  work  is  well  entitled  Confessions^  for,  in  it, 
Augustine  pours  out  his  whole  life,  his  entire  ex- 
istence, into  the  Divine  ear. 

Well,  therefore,  may  we  lay  down,  as  the  first 
rule  for  the  promotion  of  piety  in  the  clergyman,  the 
great  and  standing  rule  for  all  Christians.  Let  him 
not  be  satisfied  with  studying,  and  pondering,  the 
best  treatises  in  theology,  or  with  studying,  and  pon- 
dering, even  the  Bible  itself  Besides  all  this,  and 
as  the  crowning  and  completing  act,  in  the  religious 
life,  let  him  actually,  and  really  pray.  Let  him  not 
be  content  with  a  theological  mood,  with  a  homi- 
letic  spirit,  with  a  serious  and  elevated  mental 
habitude.  Besides  all  this,  and  as  a  yet  higher  and 
more  enlivening  mental  process,  let  him  truly,  and 
personally  address  his  Maker  and  Redeemer,  in  sup- 


EELIGI0U3   CHAEACTER.  337 

plication.  Let  liiin  not  attempt  to  promote  piety 
in  the  soul,  by  a  merely  negative  effort, — by  neg- 
lecting tlie  cultivation  of  the  mincl,  and  undervalu- 
ing learning  and  study.  If  the  clergyman  is  not 
spiritually-minded,  and  devotedly  religious,  with 
learning  and  studiousness,  he  certainly  will  not  be 
so  without  it.  Neglect  of  his  intellectual  and  theo- 
logical character,  Avill  not  help  his  religious  charac- 
ter. Let  him  constantly  endeavor  to  advance  the 
divine  life  in  his  soul,  by  a  positive,  and  comj:)rehen- 
sive  method.  Let  him  consecrate,  and  sanctify  all 
his  study,  and  all  his  meditativeness,  and  all  Ms 
profound  and  serious  knowledge,  with  prayer. 

2.  The  second  rule,  for  the  cultivation  of  the  re- 
ligious character  of  the  clergyman,  is,  that  he  pur- 
sue theological  studies  for  personal  conviction,  and 
imj^rovement.  Melancthon,  one  of  the  most  learned 
and  contemplative  of  divines,  as  well  as  one  of  the 
most  spiritual  and  best  of  men,  makes  the  following 
affirmation  respecting  himself:  "I  am  certain  and 
sm*e,  that  I  never  investigated  theology  as  a  science, 
for  any  other  purpose,  primarily,  than  to  benefit 
myself.''^  If  the  clergyman  would  advance  in  spir- 
ituality, he  must  seek  first  of  all,  in  the  investigation 
of  divine  truth,  to  satisfy  his  own  mind,  and  put  it 
at  rest,  in  respect  to  the  great  themes  of  God's 
purposes,  and  man's  destiny.  lie  must  make  the 
theology  of  the  Bible  contribute  to  his  own  mental 

'  Compare   a  similar  remark    liimself,  in  his  Narrative  of  bis 
which  Baxter  makes  respecting    Life  and  Times. 
22 


338  PASTORAL   THEOLOGY. 

peace.  That  ^vliicli  a  man  knows  witli  certainty, 
will  affect  his  character.  If  theolosfical  studies 
result  in  an  undoubted  belief,  a  belief  in  whicli 
there  is  no  wavering  or  tremulousness,  they  will 
result  in  solid  religious  growth.  To  say  nothing  of 
tlie  influence  of  such  a  mode  of  pursuing  the  truth, 
upon  the  manner  of  communicating  it,  its  effect  is 
most  excellent  upon  the  preacher  himself  We  are, 
in  reality,  influenced  by  divine  truth,  only  in  pro- 
portion as  Ave  thoroughly  know  it,  and  thoroughly 
believe  it.  Suppose  that  the  theologian  wavers  in 
his  mind,  in  respect  to  the  doctrine  of  endless  pun- 
ishment ;  will  not  liis  own  religious  character  be 
damaged,  in  proportion  to  the  degree  of  his  mental 
wavering  ?  Suppose  that  his  mind  is  not  made  up, 
and  at  rest;  suppose  that  he  hesitates,  not  out- 
wardly, but  in  the  thoughts  of  his  heart,  in  respect 
to  the  absolute  perdition  of  the  impenitent ;  will 
not  his  own  sense  of  the  malignity  of  sin  be  less 
vivid,  and  his  own  dread  and  abhorrence  of  it  less 
intense  ?  Of  course,  he  cannot  preach  the  doctrine 
to  another,  with  that  solemn  earnestness,  and  that 
impetus  and  momentum  of  statement,  which  causes 
tke  hearer  to  believe,  and  tremble  ;  but,  he  cannot 
preach  the  doctrine  to  himself.  He  cannot  fill  his 
own  soul,  with  a  profound  fear  of  sin.  Thorough 
knowledge,  and  thorough  personal  belief  of  the 
truth,  are  indispensable  to  the  existence  of  sincere, 
uuhypocritical  religion. 

3.  The  thii'd  rule  for  the  promotion  of  the  reli- 


RELIGIOUS   CnARACTEE.  339 

gious  character  of  tlie  clergyman  is,  that  he  perform 
every  clerical  duty,  be  it  in  active  or  contemplative 
life,  with  punctuality,  uniformity,  and  thorough- 
ness. Tliere  is  discipline  in  labor.  The  scrupulous 
and  faithful  performance  of  work,  of  any  kind,  im- 
proves both  the  mind  and  heart.  A  thorough  and 
punctual  mechanic,  is  a  man  of  character.  lie  pos- 
sesses a  mental  solidity,  and  strength,  that  renders 
him  a  noticeable  man,  and  a  reliable  man,  in  his 
sphere.  The  habit  of  doing  work  uniformly  well, 
and  uniformly  in  time,  is  one  of  the  best  kinds  of 
discipline.  He  who  has  no  occupation,  or  profes- 
sion, must  be,  and  as  matter  of  fact  is,  an  undis- 
ciplined man.  And,  in  case  one  has  an  occupation, 
or  a  profession,  the  excellence  of  his  discipline  is 
proportioned  to  the  fidelity,  with  which  he  follows 
it.  If  he  half  does  his  work,  his  moral  character 
sufters.  If  he  does  his  work  thoroughly,  when  he 
does  it  at  all,  but  does  not  perform  it  with  punctu- 
ality, and  uniformity  (a  thing  which  is,  however, 
not  likely  to  hajipen),  it  is  at  the  exj)ense  of  his 
moral  power. 

All  this  is  true,  in  an  eminent  degree,  of  profes- 
sional labor.  Consider,  for  example,  the  contem- 
plative side  of  the  clergyman's  life,  the  duties  of 
his  profession  so  ftir  as  concerns  the  prepara- 
tion of  sermons,  and  see  how  directly,  thorough- 
ness, and  uniformity,  in  this  department,  pro- 
mote his  religious  growth  and  character.  It  is  his 
duty,  as  a  preacher,  to  deliver  two  public  discourses, 


340  PASTOEAL   THEOLOGY. 

in  eacL.  week.  There  may  be,  and  there  will  be, 
more  or  less  of  informal  religious  instruction  to  be 
imparted,  besides  this ;  but  the  substance  of  the 
clergyman's  professional  service,  in  the  present  state 
of  society,  is  performed,  if  he  preaches  two  sermons, 
two  oratorical  discourses,  every  Sabbath  day.  This 
is  the  regular  and  established  routine  of  clerical 
life,  on  its  literary  and  contemplative  side. 

Now,  we  affirm,  that  the  careful  and  uniform 
preparation  of  two  sermons,  in  every  six  days,  is  a 
means  of  grace.  It  is,  in  its  very  nature,  adapted 
to  promote  the  piety  of  the  clergyman.  Punctual 
and  faithful  sermonizing  fixes  his  thoughts  intently 
upon  divine  truth,  and  preserves  his  mind  from 
frivolous  and  vain  wandering;  it  brings  his  feel- 
ings, and  emotions,  into  contact  with  that  which 
is  fitted  to  enliven,  and  sanctity  them;  it  over- 
comes the  natural  indolence  of  human  nature,  and 
precludes  a  great  deal  of  temptation  to  employ  the 
mental  powers  wrongly ;  it  leaves  no  room  for  the 
rise  of  morbid  and  unhealthy  mental  exercises ;  it 
makes  the  clergyman  happy  in  his  ^^rofession,  and 
strong  in  the  truth,  because  he  becomes,  in  the  pro- 
cess, a  thorough-bred  divine ;  it  gives  him  a  solid 
weight  of  character,  and  influence,  that  does  not 
puff  him  up  with  vanity,  as  mere  popularity  always 
does,  but  makes  him  devoutly  thankful,  and  hum- 
ble, before  God ;  and,  lastly,  it  promotes  his  piety, 
by  promoting  his  permanence  in  the  ministry,  for 
the  piety  of  a  standard  man,  is  superior  to  that  of 


EELIGIOUS   CHAEACTER.  341 

a  floating  man.  And  thus  we  miglit  go  on  sj^ecify- 
ing  particulars,  in  regard  to  wliicli,  the  conscientious 
performance  of  clerical  duties,  in  the  study,  tends 
directly  to  build  up  a  solid,  and  excellent  religious 
character. 

There  is  a  variety  in  the  means  which  the  cler- 
gyman must  employ,  in  order  to  spiritual  growth, 
and  they  differ,  in  the  degree  of  their  importance. 
"We  have  assigned  the  first  place,  to  prayer,  but, 
we  do  not  hesitate  to  assign  the  second  place, 
to  conscientious,  and  thorough  sermonizing.  For, 
what  is  such  sermonizing,  as  we  are  pleading  for, 
but  religious  meditation,  of  the  very  best  kind? 
patient  thought,  upon  that  divine  truth  which  is  the 
food,  and  nutriment  of  holiness  ?  bringing  out  into 
the  clear  lio^ht  of  distinct  consciousness,  in  our  own 
minds,  and  for  the  minds  of  others,  the  doctrines 
of  salvation  ?  There  is  no  surer  way,  to  become 
interested  in  a  truth,  than  to  wiite  a  well-considered 
discoui'se  upon  it.  The  careful  composition  of  a 
sermon,  oftentimes  brings  the  heart  into  a  glow  of 
feeling,  that  gives  itself  vent  in  prayer.  Hence,  we 
find  some  of  the  greatest  preachers,  among  the 
Fathers  and  the  Keformers,  writing  down  the  j^rayer 
that  rose,  spontaneously,  from  their  ovei-flowing 
souls,  making:  it  the  conclusion  of  their  sermon. 
Many  of  the  sweetest  and  loftiest  hymns  of  Watts, 
were  the  lyrical  utterance  of  what  had  passed 
through  his  mind  in  sermonizing,  and  were,  origin- 
ally, aj^pended  to  his  discourses.     And  the  same 


342  PASTOEAL    THEOLOGY- 

thing  appears,  still  more  remarkably,  in  the  writings 
of  the  Schoolmen.  In  these  strictly  scientific  trea- 
tises, which  do  not  pretend  to  be  oratorical,  or 
applicatory  to  an  audience,  we  meet,  here  and  there, 
a  short  prayer,  full  of  earnestness,  and  full  of  vital- 
ity. In  Anselm,  in  Aquinas,  and  in  Bernard,  the 
reader  sees  the  spirit  of  these  analytic  metaphysical 
men,  at  the  close  of  its  intense  meditation  upon 
some  mystery  in  the  Divine  being,  or  the  Divine 
administration,  subdued,  and  awed,  hushed,  and 
breathless,  in  suj)plication  and  adoration.  The  in- 
tensely theoretic  turns  into  the  intensely  practical, 
pure  reason  into  pure  emotion,  dry  light  into  vivid 
life. 

What  has  been  said  of  the  contemplative  life  of 
the  clergyman,  applies  with  equal  force  to  his  active 
life.  ^  thorough  and  punctual  performance  of  pas- 
toral duties,  is  a  direct  means  of  grace.^In  the  first 
place,  the  conscientious  delivery  of  the  two  sermons, 
that  have  been  composed  in  the  conscientious  man- 
ner spoken  of,  ministers  to  edification.  Although 
this  is  not  strictly  a  pastoral  work,  yet  it  belongs  to 
the  active,  rather  than  the  contemplative  side  of 
clerical  life.  That  clergyman  who  2^ readies  his  ser- 
mons with  earnestness,  feeling  the  truth  of  every 
word  he  utters,  will  be  spiritually  benefited  by  this 
part  of  his  labors.  Elocution,  the  mere  delivery  of 
truth,  which  is  too  often  destitute  of  both  human 
nature  and  divine  grace,  when  emphatic,  and  sincere, 
promotes  piety.     Speaking  in  and  by  a  sermon,  with 


RELIGI0U3    CnARACTER.  343 

ardor  and  feeling,  to  an  audience,  in  respect  to  their 
spiritual  interests,  as  really  sets  the  Christian  aftec- 
tions  into  a  glow,  as  speaking,  in  the  same  spirit,  to 
an  individual  in  private  intercourse. 

In  the  second  place,  a  faithful  and  constant  per- 
formance of  the  duty  of  pastoral  visiting,  is  a  means 
of  grace.  No  one  who  has  had  any  experience  in 
this  respect,  will  deny  this  for  a  moment.  There 
is  nothing  better  adapted  to  develope  piet}^,  to 
elicit  the  latent  j)rinciples  of  the  Christian,  than 
going  from  house  to  house,  and  conversing  with  all 
varieties  of  cliaracter,  and  all  grades  of  intelligence, 
upon  the  subject  of  religion.  The  colporteur's  piety 
is  active  and  zealous;  and  the  missionary,  who  is 
generally  obliged  to  teach  Christian  truth  to  indi- 
viduals, is  a  fervid  and  godly  man.  The  clergyman, 
then,  will  grow  in  grace,  by  simple  assiduity  in  the 
discharge  of  this  part  of  his  professional  labors. 
"Whenever  he  is  called  to  the  bed-side  of  an  impeni- 
tent sinner,  let  him  be  thorough  in  dealing  with  that 
endangered  sinner's  soul,  affectionate  but  solemn  in 
probing  his  consciousness,  perseveringly  attentive 
to  the  moral  symj^toms  of  the  unregenerate  man,  on 
the  bed  of  languishing ; — ^let  him  be  a  faithful  pastor, 
in  each  and  every  such  instance,  and  he  will  be  en- 
riched with  heavenly  wisdom  and  love.  Let  him 
stand  with  the  same  uniform  fidelity  at  the  bed-side 
of  the  dying  Christian,  dispelling  momentary  gloom 
by  the  exhibition  of  Christ  and  his  atonement,  sup- 
plicating for  more  of  the  comfort  of  the  Holy  Ghost, 


344  PASTOEAL   THEOLOGY. 

in  the  soul  of  tlie  dying  saint ;  listening  to  the 
utterances  of  serene  faith,  or  of  rapturous  triumph ; 
let  him  submit  his  own  soul,  to  the  great  variety  of 
influences  that  come  off  from  the  experience  of  the 
sick,  and  the  dying,  and  he  will  greatly  deepen  and 
strengthen  his  own  religious  character.  And,  lastly, 
the  same  fidelity  and  constancy,  in  conversing  with 
well  and  happy  men,  and  therefore  thoughtless  men, 
respecting  their  eternal  interests,  and  in  catechising 
the  children,  conduces  powerfully  to  the  formation 
of  an  unearthly,  and  a  holy  frame  of  spirit. 

Here,  then,  in  the  clerical  office  itself,  is  a  most 
efficient  means  of  grace.  The  clergyman  needs  not 
to  go  up  and  down  the  earth,  seeking  for  instru- 
mentalities for  personal  improvement.  By  his  very 
position,  and  daily  labor,  he  may  be  made  spiritual 
and  heavenly.  The  word  is  nigh  him,  in  his  mouth 
and  in  his  heart.  A  single  word,  is  the  key  to  holi- 
ness in  the  clergyman.  That  word  is  fidelity^ — 
fidelity  in  the  discharge  of  all  the  duties  of  his 
closet,  his  study,  and  his  parish.  A  somewhat  noted 
rationalist  speaks  of  some  men,  as  being  "  aboriginal 
saints," — men  in  whom  virtue  is  indigenous.  There 
is  no  such  man.  But,  we  may  accommodate  this 
hypothesis  of  a  natural  virtue,  and  say,  that  the 
clergyman,  so  far  as  his  calling  and  position  are 
concerned,  ought  to  be  naturally  holy.  \  His  whole 
environment  is  favorable  to  piety.  He  ought  to  be 
spontaneously  religious.  \ 


CHAPTER    III. 

INTELLECTUAL    CHARACTER    AND    HABITS    OP    THE    CLER- 
GYMAN. 

In"  the  preceding  chapter,  we  were  led  to  speak 
of  iutellectuality  and  studiousness,  in  tlieir  rela- 
tions to  the  religious  character  of  the  clergyman ; 
taking  the  position  that,  provided  he  is  faithful  in 
other  respects,  learning  and  contem^^lation  are,  in 
themselves,  favorable  to  spirituality  and  piety.  In 
this  chapter,  we  <  are  to  consider,  first,  the  ti/j^e  of 
intellectual  character  which  the  clergyman  ought  to 
form,  and,  secondly,  the  means  of  farming  if. 

In  respect  to  the  style  of  mental  culture,  at 
which  the  clergyman  should  aim,  we  sum  up  the 
whole  in  the  remark,  that  it  should  be  choice.  It 
should  be  the  product  of  a  very  select  course  of 
reading,  and  study,  and  hence  of  a  finer  grade  than 
the  common  intellectuality.  Yin  this  country,  and  in 
this  reading  age,  almost  every  man  is  somewhat 
literary.  He  is  more  or  less  acquainted  with  books, 
and  may  be  said  to  have  an  intellectual,  as  well  as 
a  moral  character.  Two  centuries  ac:©,  this  was 
less  the  case.      There  was  then,  in  society  at  large, 


346  PASTOEAL   TnEOLOGY. 

very  little  of  tliat  enliglitenment  whicli  is  the  effect 
of  miscellaneous  and  general  readinoj  Culture  was 
concentrated  in  a  smaller  number;  and  lience,  in 
the  seventeenth  century  there  was  a  higher  intellec- 
tual character,  in  the  learned  professions,  relatively 
to  that  of  the  mass  of  society,  than  there  is  at  the 
present  day.  The  masses  have  made  more  advance, 
than  the  literary  circles  have.  The  professional 
classes,  and  the  public,  are  now  nearer  a  common 
level,  than  they  were  two  centuries  ago ;  because, 
while  the  public  has  enlarged  its  acquaintance  with 
literature,  there  has  not  been  a  corresponding 
progress,  on  the  j^art  of  the  professions.  The  learn- 
ing and  intellectual  power  of  the  theologians  of  the 
j)resent  day,  is  not  as  much  superior  to  that  of 
Richard  Hooker,  or  John  Howe,  as  the  popular 
knowledge  of  the  nineteenth  century,  is  superior  to 
that  of  the  sixteenth  and  seventeenth.  Neither  is 
the  mental  culture  of  the  upper  class,  in  the  literary 
world,  as  choice  now  as  formerly,  because  it  partakes 
more  of  the  indiscriminateness  of  the  common  en- 
lightenment. The  great  multiplication  of  branches 
of  knowledge,  and  of  books,  has  made  the  profes- 
sional man  more  of  a  miscellaneous  reader,  than  he 
once  was.  The  consequence  is,  that  the  intellectual 
character  of  the  professions,  while  it  has  gained 
something  in  variety  and  versatility,  has  lost  in 
quality. 

In  view  of  this  fact,  as  well  as  on  account  of 
the  intrinsic  desirableness  of  the  thino;  itself,  the 


DfTELLECTUAL   CHARACTER.  347 

clergyman  ought  to  aim  at  clioiceness,  in  his  educa- 
tion. He  should  strive  after  ripe  scholarship),  and 
such  mental  traits  as  profundity,  comprehensiveness, 
clearness,  and  force.  These  are  too  often  neglected, 
for  a  more  superficial  culture,  and  a  class  of  qualities 
like  versatility,  vivacity,  and  brilliancy.  These  latter 
are  much  more  easily  obtained,  than  the  former. 
They  do  not  task  the  persevering  power  of  the 
mind,  and,  consequently,  do  not  draw  out  its  best 
capacity.  The  natural  indolence  of  human  nature, 
is  inclined  to  that  species  of  intellectuality  Avhich  is 
most  readily  acquired,  and  which  makes  the  great- 
est momentary  impression  uj^on  others.  The  clergy- 
man, the  lawyer,  and  the  author,  are  too  content 
with  a  grade  of  knowledge  that  is  possessed  by 
society  at  large.  They  are  too  willing  to  read  the 
same  books,  and  no  more ;  to  look  from  the  same 
point  of  view,  and  no  higher  one;  in  short,  to 
reflect  the  general  culture  of  the  masses.  But, 
a  professional  man  has  no  right  to  pursue  this 
course.  Society  does  not  set  him  upon  an  eleva- 
tion above  itself,  and  maintain  him  there  by  its 
institutions  and  arrangements,  merely  to  have  him 
look  through  their  eyes,  and  fi'om  their  own  lower 
position.  Society  does  not,  for  example,  place  a 
man  upon  the  high  position  of  a  public  religious 
teacher,  expecting  that  he  will  merely  retail  the 
current  popular  knowledge.  Society  looks  up  to 
the  clergyman  as  its  religious  instructor,  and  re- 
quires that  he  be  in  advance  of  its  own  information. 


348  PASTOEAL  THEOLOGY. 

It  does  not,  indeed,  insist  that  lie  know  all  things, 
and  be  ahead  in  all  respects.  The  lawyer,  as  he 
listens  to  his  clergyman,  does  not  look  for  a  more 
extensive  and  accurate  knowledge  of  law,  than  he 
himself  possesses.  The  man  of  business, — the 
farmer,  the  manufacturer,  and  the  merchant, — does 
not  expect  from  his  minister,  a  shrewder  and  wider 
information  in  the  department  of  active  life,  than 
he  has  himself.  But  each  and  all  expect,  that  in 
regard  to  religion,  and  all  those  portions  of  human 
knowledge  which  are  most  closely  connected  with 
theology,  the  clergyman  will  be  in  advance  of  them- 
selves. They  demand  that,  in  its  own  sphere,  cleri- 
cal culture  be  superior  to  that  of  society  at  large. 

The  clergyman  should  not,  therefore,  be  content 
with  the  average  intellectuality.  He  ought  not  to 
loudly  profess  a  choicer  culture,  than  that  of  the 
community,  but  he  ought  actually  to  possess  it.  As 
the  clerical  position,  and  calling,  demands  a  superior 
and  eminent  religious  character,  so  it  demands  a 
superior  and  eminent  intellectual  character.  If  the 
clergyman  may  not  supinely  content  himself  with 
an  ordinary  piety,  neither  may  he  content  himself 
with  an  ordinary  culture. 

These  remarks  upon  the  kind  and  type  of  intel- 
lectual character,  at  which  the  clergyman  must  aim, 
prepare  the  way  for  considering  the  chief  means, 
and  methods  of  forming  it.  And  these  may  all  be 
reduced  to  one,  namely,  the  daily,  nightly,  and  ever- 
lasting study  of  standard  authors.    "  Few,"  remarks 


LNTELLECTUAL   CHAEACTER.  349 

John  Foster,  "  have  been  sufficiently  sensible  of  the 
importance  of  that  economy  in  reading,  ^vhich 
selects,  almost  exclusively,  the  very  first  order  of 
books.  Why  should  a  man,  except  for  some  special 
reason,  read  a  very  inferior  book,  at  the  very  time 
that  he  might  be  reading  one  of  the  highest  order  ? 
A  man  of  ability,  for  the  chief  of  his  reading, 
should  select  such  works  as  he  feels  beyond  his 
own  power  to  have  produced.  What  can  other 
books  do  for  him,  but  waste  his  time  and  aucrment 
his  vanity  ?" 

Choice  and  his^h  culture  is  the  fruit  of  com- 
munion  with  the  very  finest,  and  loftiest  intellects 
of  the  race.  Familiarity  with  ordinary  produc- 
tions, cannot  raise  the  mind  above  the  common 
level.  Like  breeds  like,  and  mediocre  literature, 
that  neither  descends  deep,  nor  soars  high,  will  leave 
the  student  mediocre,  and  common-place,  in  his 
thoughts.  The  preacher  must  love  the  profound 
thinkers,  and  meditate  upon  them.  But,  these  are 
not  the  multitude.  They  are  the  few.  They  are 
those  who  make  epochs,  in  the  provinces  in  which 
they  labor.  As  we  cast  our  eye  along  the  history 
of  a  de2:>artment,  be  it  poetry,  or  philosophy,  or  the- 
ology, a  few  names  rej^resent,  and  contain,  the 
whole  pith  and  substance  of  it.  Though  there  are 
many  others  who  are  respectable,  and  many  more 
who  are  mere  sciolists  and  pretenders,  still,  an 
acquaintance  or  unacquaintance  with  them  all  would 
not  materially  affect  the  sum  of  his  knowledge,  who 


350  PASTOEAL   THEOLOGY. 

sliould  be  tliorouglily  familiar  witli  these  leading 
and  standard  writers. 

.  The  clergyman,  therefore,  must  dare  to  pass  by 
all  second-rate  authors,  and  devote  his  days  and 
nights  to  the  first-rate.  No  matter  how  pojDular  or 
brilliant  a  cotemporary  may  be,  no  matter  how 
active  may  be  the  popular  mind  in  a  particular 
direction,  it  is  his  true  course,  to  devote  his  best 
powers  to  mastering  those  authors  who  have  been 
tried  by  time,  and  are  confessedly  the  first  intellects 
of  the  race.  If  a  great  thinker  actually  arises  in  our 
own  a2:e,  we  are  not  to  ne2;lect  him  because  he  is 
a-  cotemporary.  Greatness  should  be  recognized 
whenever  it  arises.  But  it  must  be  remembered 
that  a  single  age  does  well,  if  it  produces  a  single 
historic  mind, — a  mind  that  makes  an  epoch,  in  the 
history  of  the  department  to  which  it  devotes  itself. 
And,  moreover,  it  must  be  remembered,  that  we  are 
more  liable  to  be  prejudiced  in  favor  of  a  cotempo- 
rary, than  of  a  predecessor,  and  hence,  that  cotem- 
porary judgments  are  generally  modified,  and  some- 
times'  reversed,  by  posterity.  The  past  is  secure. 
A  student  who  bends  his  energies  to  the  compre- 
hension of  an  author  who  is  acknowledged  to  be 
standard,  by  the  consent  of  ages  and  generations  of 
scholars,  takes  the  safe  course  to  attain  a  choice 
culture. 

It  is  not  possible  to  go  over  the  whole  field  of 
literature,  in  a  single  chapter,  and  we  shall,  there- 
fore, confine  ourselves  to  those  three  departments, 


INTELLECTUAL    CII.VJIACTEE.  351 

wliicTi  exert  the  most  direct  and  important  influence 
upon  tlie  intellectual  character  of  the  clergyman. 
These  are  poetry,  philosophy,  and  theology.  In 
each  of  these,  "\ve  shall  mark  out  a  course  of 
reading  and  study,  which  we  think  adapted  to 
result  in  a  ripe  cultiv^ation .  And  assuming  that 
the  Bil)le,  from  its  difference  in  kind  from  all 
other  literature,  and  its  peculiar  and  paramount 
claims  upon  the  study  of  the.  clergyman,  will  be 
the  object  of  supreme  attention,  the  Book  of 
books,  we  shall  confine  our  remarks  to  uninspired 
literatttre. 

\In  poetry,  the  clergyman  should  study  all  his 
days,  the  great  creative  minds,  namely,  Homer,  Vir- 
gil, Dante,  Shakspeare,  and  Milton.^  A  brief  sketch 
of  their  characteristics,  and  specification  of  the  ele- 
ments of  culture  furnished  by  each,  to  go  into  the 
combination  we  are  seeking,  will  be  in  place  here. 
Homer  is  to  be  studied,  as  the  head  and  representa- 
tive of  Greek  poetry.  The  human  mind  reached 
the  highest  grade  of  culture  that  is  possible  to 
paganism,  in  the  Greek  race ;  and  the  inmost  spirit 
and  energy  of  the  Greek  intellect,  is  concentrated 
in  the  blind  bard  of  Chios.  Lon2:-continued  fiimi- 
liarity  with  the  Iliad  and  Odyssey,  imparts  force, 
fire,  and  splendor,  to  the  mental  character.  It  also 
imparts  freshness,  freedom,  and  enthusiasm.  Bou- 
chardon  said  that  while  reading  Homer,  his  whole 
frame  appeared  to  himself  to  be  enlarged,  and  all 
surrounding  nature  to  be  diminished  to  atoms.  The 


352  PASTOEAL   THEOLOar. 

function  of  Homer  is  to  dilate,  and  kindle  tlie  in- 
tellect. 

Virgil  is  to  be  studied  as  tlie  embodiment  of 
dignity,  and  grace.  Thougli  hardly  severe  and  mas- 
sive enough,  to  be  a  full  representative  of  the  Ro- 
man mind,  yet,  upon  the  vt^hole,  he  contains  more 
of  its  various  characteristics,  than  any  other  single 
Roman  poet.  He  adequately  represents  imperial 
Rome,  if  he  does  not  monarchical  and  republican. 
The  dignity  of  the  Roman  character  is  certainly 
exhibited  in  the  Virgilian  poetry.  The  influence 
of  familiarity  with  the  ^neid,  is  highly  refining. 
Men  of  elegant  traits,  like  Canning  and  Robert 
Hall,  relish  and  quote  Virgil.  Eveiy  thing  in 
him  is  full  of  grace,  and  j^ropriety.  Even  in  the 
Georgics,  though  the  theme  is  not  favorable  to  the 
exhibition  of  such  qualities,  they  yet  appear  in 
their  height.  As  Addison  says,  the  farmer  in  the 
Georgics,  tosses  his  dung  about  with  an  air  of 
dignity. 

Dante  is  the  great  poet  of  the  Middle  Ages. 
Though  a  Papist  by  birth  and  position,  he  is  yet  a 
Protestant  in  temper  and  spirit.  Dante  and  Michael 
Angelo,  so  far  as  the  fundamental  traits  of  their 
minds  are  concerned,  were  both  of  them  blood-rela- 
tions of  Martin  Luther.  Intensity  is  the  prominent 
characteristic  of  the  Divine  Comedy.  Familiarity 
with  Dante  imparts  a  luminous  distinctness,  to  the 
operations  and  products  of  the  mind.  The  poetry 
of  Dante  is  more  speculative  than  that  of  any  other 


mXELLECTUAL  CnAKACTEE.         353 

poet.^  lie  was  well  acquainted  witli  Aristotle's 
philosopliy,  and  exhibits  tlie  subtlety  and  analysis 
of  tlie  Schoolmen  themselves.  Indeed,  the  general 
literary  characteristics  of  the  Middle  Ages,  are  all 
concentrated  in  the  great  Italian  poet. 

Shakspeare  and  Milton  stand  upon  a  common 
level.  The  English  Parnassus,  to  use  the  figure  of 
Coleridge,  has  twin  peaks  that  crown  its  summit. 
Both  alike  deserve  a  life-long  study, — Shakspeare, 
for  the  breadth  and  subtlety  of  his  thinking ;  Mil- 
ton, for  his  loftiness  and  grandeur. 

The  English  poets  in  this  list,  the  clergyman 
may  read  in  their  own  tongue.  If  he  would  be 
perfect,  he  must  study  the  others,  in  the  tongues  in 
which  they  were  Ijorn,  and  wrote.  With  the  Latin 
of  Virgil,  he  should  be  ashamed  to  be  unfamiliar ; 
while  it  is  to  be  remembered  that  dignity  and 
grace,  being  formal  qualities,  are  more  difficult  to 
be  transfused  into  another  lano;ua2;e.  Dante  has 
been  foithfully  translated  by  Gary,  and  by  frequent 
perusal  the  student  may,  even  through  this  medium, 
thoroughly  imbue  his  culture  with  the  spirit  of 
the  Divine  Comedy.  Homer,  so  f-ar  as  possible, 
ouQ-ht  to  be  read  in  the  orijrinal  Greek ;  but  if  a 
translation  is  to  be  employed,  it  should  be  that  of 
Chapman,  one  of  the  early  English  translators.     It 

'It  is  also  more  tlicologlcal,  of  the  doctrines  of  sin  and  atonc- 

tlian  that  ©f  any  otlier,  unless  wo  ment,  for  example,  have  not  been 

except  Milton, — if  indeed  he  is  to  made,  than  Danto  lays  down  in 

be  excepted.     Belter  statements  tho  seventh  Oiinto  of  the  Paradise. 

23 


354  PASTORAL   THEOLOGY. 

is  exceedingly  rugged,  yet  very  faithful  to  the  ori- 
ginal. But  what  is  of  most  importance,  Chapman 
has  caught  the  Homeric  spirit  far  more  than  any 
other  translator,  be  he  English,  French,  German,  or 
Italian.  That  fiery  energy,  that  rushing  life,  and 
that  dilation  and  inspiration  Avhich  are  so  charac- 
teristic of  the  Greek,  re-appear  in  the  Englishman. 
Familiarity  with  this  version,  even  without  any 
other  knowledge  of  Homer,  will  bring  the  student 
into  a  more  living  sympathy  with  him,  than  the 
perusal  of  Pope's  version  can,  even  if  helped  out 
with  a  mere  dictionary-knowledge  of  the  original. 
The  spirit  of  the  performance  is  intensely  Homeric. 
It  is,  as  Lamb  says,  not  so  much  a  translation,  as  an 
original  production ;  such  an  one  as  Homer  himself 
would  have  composed,  had  he  been  compelled  to 
use  the  less  flexible  and  harmonious  Eno;lish,  instead 
of  the  pliant  and  mellifluous  Greek.  But,  while  we 
are  speaking  of  translation,  it  must  be  remembered 
that  a  continuous  study  of  an  author,  even  in  ver- 
sions, naturally  results  in  more  or  less  study  of  him 
in  the  original.  Struck  with  the  force,  or  perhaps 
the  obscurity  of  the  translation,  the  reader  takes 
down  the  original  to  compare  or  explain,  and,  in 
this  way,  keeps  his  mind  considerably  familiar  with 
the  original,  —  certainly,  more  familiar  than  he 
would,  if  the  writer  were  entirely  neglected.^ 

'  The  prohibition  of  trausla-  gnage,  is  wise  and .  necessary, 
tious  to  the  young  student,  vvliile  But  tlieir  subsequent  use,  after 
acquiring  the  rudiments  of  a  hm-     tlie  foundations  of  classical  know- 


lOTTELLECTUAL    CHAEACTEE.  355 

Tlie  aiitliors  thus  mentioned  and  sketched,  are 
the  first  and  greatest  in  the  province  of  poetry,  in 
their  respective  ages  and  literatures.  The  clergyman 
who  is  thoroughly  familiar  with  these,  though  he 
should  be  ignorant  of  all  others,  will  be  marked  by 
a  choice  poetical  cultivation ;  ^vhile,  if  he  neglects 
these,  though  he  should  be  acquainted  with  all 
other  poets,  this  part  of  his  education  would  betray 
radical  defects. 

The  department  of  philosophy  next  demands 
our  attention.  This  exerts  a  very  powerful  influ- 
ence upon  the  intellectual  character,  and  may  be 
said  to  determine  its  whole  style  and  tone.  If  we 
know  the  philosophical  authors  with  whom  a  stu- 
dent is  familiar,  ^ve  know  the  fundamental  and  dis- 
tinguishing characteristics  of  his  education ;  for 
philosophy  furnishes  him  with  his  methods  of  reason- 
ino;,  and  investi2:atino;,  forms  his  habits  of  thoue'ht, 
and,  to  a  great  extent,  determines  the  direction  of 
his  thinking,  by  presenting  the  objects  of  thought. 
Thus,  it  may  be  said  to  contain  the  principles, 
means,  and  end,  of  mental  development ;  and,  there- 
fore of  merely  human  and  intellectual  branches  of 


ledgo   have    been   laid,    and   tlio  even  from  a  translation,  is  proved 

BcLoIar  is  compelled,  by  the  de-  by  the  fixct,  that  the  English  Biblo 

mands  of  a  laborious  profession,  is  the  only  source,   whence    the 

to  make  wide  excursions  over  the  majority  of  the  Anglo-American 

whole  immense  field  of  Ancient  world  derive  their  acquaintance 

literature,  is  a  different  matter,  with    the    Hebrew    and     Greek 

That  a  real  and  vivid  knowledge  Scriptures. 
of   an  author  may   bo  acquired 


356  PASTOEAL   THEOLOGY. 

discipline,  it  is  tlie  first  and  most  important.  The 
same  injunction  to  read  standard  authors,  applies 
with  full  force  here  also.  A  few  names  make  up 
the  list  of  iirst-class  minds,  in  this  department.  The 
clergyman  should  become  familiar  with  the  two 
masters  of  Grecian  philosophy,  Plato  and  Aristotle.-  ^ 
Their  systems  are  sometimes  represented  as  radically 
different  from  each  other ;  but  the  difference  is  only 
formal,  such  as  naturally  arises,  when,  of  two  minds, 
one  is  synthetic,  and  the  other  is  analytic,  in  its  na- 
ture and  tendency.  The  diligent  student  of  these 
Grecians  will  discover  in  them,  a  material  aOTeement 
in  respect  to  first  principles,  together  with  a  formal 
difference  in  the  mode  of  investigation  and  repre- 
sentation, that  is  for  his  benefit.  Their  systems 
should  be  studied  in  connection,  as  two  halves  of 
one  coherent  whole.  He  who  has  mastered  them, 
has  mastered  all  that  is  true  and  valuable,  in  the 
philosophy  of  the  Ancient  world.  As  these  authors 
are  voluminous,  and  in  a  difficult  language,  the 
clergyman  needs  all  the  aids  possible.  Of  Plato, 
there  is  a  good  Latin  version  by  the  Italian,  Ficinus, 
two  German  versions,  one  by  Schleiermacher  and 
one  by  Schwarz,  and  an  excellent  French  transla- 
tion by  Cousin.  Of  the  English  translations,  that 
which  is  now  publishing  by  Bohn,  of  London, 
includes  the  entire  works  of  Plato,  and  is  of  un- 
equal merit  in  its  parts.  On  the  whole,  the  cheap 
Tauchniz  edition  of  the  Greek,  a  good  Greek 
lexicon,  and  Bohn's  translations,  make  up  an   ap- 


mTELLECTUAL    CHAEACTEE.  357 

paratus  for  tlie  study  of  Plato,  that  is  witliin  the 
reach  of  every  clergyman.  When  he  wishes  to  read 
rapidly,  let  him  peruse  the  English  version,  correct- 
ing the  mistakes,  and  elucidating  the  ohscurity  of 
the  translators,  by  the  Greek.  When  he  desires  to 
read  for  the  sake  of  the  language  and  style  of  the 
original,  let  him  carefully  study  this.  In  this  way, 
the  clergyman,  notwithstanding  the  multiplicity  of 
his  labors,  may  become  well  acquainted  with  the 
philosophy  of  the  Academy. 

In  reading  Aristotle,  the  same  method  may  be 
followed.  The  same  publisher  is  j)rinting,  from 
time  to  time,  translations  of  this  author,  and  the 
German  2:)ublisher  Tauchuiz  furnishes  an  equally 
cheap  edition  of  the  Greek.  More  discrimination 
is  needed  in  selecting  from  Aristotle,  than  from 
Plato.  Ai'istotle  wrote  extensively  upon  natural 
philosojDhy,  and  his  speculations  in  this  department 
are  not  of  so  much  worth  to  the  modern  student,  sur- 
rounded as  he  is  with  the  achievements  of  modern 
science.  The  Metaphysics  and  Ethics,  the  Rhetoric, 
and,  though  last  not  least,  the  Politics  and  Econo- 
mics, are  the  treatises  of  Aristotle  of  most  value 
to  the  clergyman.  The  Greek  of  this  author  is 
worthy  of  special  attention,  by  reason  of  its  affinity 
with  that  of  the  New  Testament,  and  it  is  much 
less  difficult  than  the  poetic  prose  of  Plato. 

The  clergyman  sliould  peruse  the  philosophical 
writings  of  Cicero.  The  Roman  reproduces  in  a 
genial  and  elegant  manner,  the  moral  philosophy  of 


358  PASTOEAL   THEOLOGY. 

Plato.  He  oiio'litto  be  read  in  tlie  orio-inal,  altos-ether, 
and  may  easily  be.  Tlie  most  valuable  of  Lis  pliilo- 
sopliical  treatises  are  tlie  tract  on  the  Immortality 
of  the  soul,  the  De  Natura  Deorum.,  and  the  De 
Flmhus^  which  discusses  the  nature  of  good  and 
evil. 

There  is  no  writer  of  the  Middle  Ages,  in  phi- 
losophy, who  stands  in  a  similar  relation  to  his  time, 
with  Plato  and  Aristotle  and  Cicero,  to  theirs. 
Philosophy,  during  this  period,  passed  over  into 
theology,  and  hence  we  shall  speak  of  the  Mediaeval 
thinkers  under  that  head.  Moreover,  as  the  Aris- 
totelian philosophy  was  the  dominant  system  of  the 
Middle  Ages,  the  study  of  Aristotle  himself,  will 
make  the  student  acquainted  with  the  Mediteval 
methods  of  thinkino;  and  investio-ation. 

Des  Cartes  is  justly  regarded  as  the  father  of 
Modern  j)hilosophy,  because  he  gave  it  its  pre- 
dominant direction  towards  psychology.  His  first 
principle,  Cogito  ergo  sum,  converts  j^hilosophy  into 
an  analysis  of  consciousness.  His  discourse  on  the 
"  Method  of  rightly  conducting  the  Reason,"  and  his 
"  Meditations,"  are  of  most  value  to  the  theoloi^ical 
student.  Though  not  clironologically  in  place,  yet 
from  his  intellectual  relations,  we  here  mention  the 
name  of  Xeibniz.  The  philosophical  speculations  of 
this  writer  are  highly  theological,  and  therefore 
are  attractive  to  the  clergyman.  Written  in  the 
most  pellucid  style,  such  treatises  as  the  Thcodicue 
and  Nouveaux   Essais    (the    most   masterly   criti- 


IXTELLECTUAL  CHARACTEE.  359 

cism  that  lias  yet  been  made  upon  tlie  pliilosopliy 
of  Locke),  well  reward  the  scholar  for  their  perusal. 
The  clergyman  ought  to  become  well  acquainted 
with  the  method,  and  system,  of  that  sagacious, 
comprehensive,  and  substantial  thiuker,  Lord  Bacon. 
He,  also,  like  Aristotle,  is  regarded  by  some,  as  the 
antagonist  of  Plato ;  but  a  perusal  of  his  works,  par- 
ticularly the  Novum  Organum,  in  the  light  thrown 
upon  them  by  those  Essays  of  Coleridge  in  the 
Friend,^  in  Avliich  he  compares  Bacon  and  Plato,  will 
convince  any  one  that  their  philosophical  methods 
are  essentially  the  same,  only  applied  to  different 
departments  of  inquiry, — Plato,  being  the  philoso- 
pher of  the  intellect  and  spirit,  Bacon,  the  philoso- 
pher of  nature  and  matter;  the  one,  cultivating 
intellectual  and.  moral  philosophy,  the  other,  inves- 
tigating natural  philosophy  and  physical  science. 

The  next  system,  in  tlie  historic  movement  of 
philosophy,  is  that  of  Locke.  This  merits  the 
study  of  the  clergyman,  mainly  for  negative  j)ui- 
poses.  Thus  far,  tlie  systems  which  we  have  men- 
tioned are  substantially  tlie  same,  aiid  in  one 
straight,  though  sometimes  wide,  path  of  progress. 
But  this  system  is  out  of  the  line  of  a  true  j^liilo- 
sopliic  advance.  It  has,  however,  exerted  so  great 
an  influence  in  the  philosophic  Avorld,  that  it  de- 
serves to  be  thoroughly  studied,  as  the  most  self- 
consistent,  and  at  the  same  time  moderate,  of  all  the 

'  Coleridge  :  Works,  Vol.  II.  p.  437,  sq. 


360  PASTORAL   THEOLOGY. 

systems  of  materialism.  A  critical  mastery  of  it, 
results  in  a  more  immoveable  position  upon  the  true 
philosophic  ground.  In  this  reference,  the  study 
of  Locke  is  of  great  negative  worth,  while,  at  the 
same  time,  it  is  often  of  value,  in  repressing  that 
false  spiritualism  into  which  the  human  mind  is  apt 
to  run,  in  passing  from  one  extreme  to  another. 

The  last  name  that  we  mention,  in  this  series  of 
^philosophers,  is  that  of  Kant.  He  who  goes  to  the 
study  of  this  author,  after  that  of  Locke,  will  find 
himself  again  in  the  broad,  travelled  highway  of 
philosophy ;  and  will  come  into  contact  with  the 
most  logical  mind  since  Aristotle.  The  fundamental 
principles  of  theism,  and  ethics,  are  laid  down  with 
scientific  precision,  in  the  three  Critiques  of  this  latest 
of  the  great  metaphysical  thinkers.  Kant  is  most 
satisfactorily  read  in  the  original  German ;  yet,  such 
a  study  of  previous  philosophers,  as  we  have  recom- 
mended, resulting,  as  it  does,  in  what  may  be  called 
a  philosophic  instinct,  and  sagacity,  in  detecting  the 
drift  of  a  system,  will  enable  the  student  to  gather 
his  general  meaning,  even  out  of  the  very  inade- 
quate translations  that  have  been  made  of  him. 
Something,  moreover,  may  be  learned  from  the 
English  and  French  ^vi'iters  who  have  either  adopted, 
or  opposed  his  opinions.  Of  them  all,  Coleridge 
and.  Hamilton  were  by  far  the  best  acquainted  with 
Kant,  and  their  writings  are  the  best  introduction 
to  the  German  philosopher,  that  is  accessible  to  the 
merely  English  reader. 


INTELLECTUAL   CHAEACTEE.  361 

In  concluding  under  this  head  of  philosophy,  wq 
make  a  remark  similar  to  that  at  the  close  of  the 
paragraph  upon  poetry.  *  Familiarity  with  these 
\J  eight  authors,  Plato,  Aristotle,  Cicero,  Des  Cartes, 
Leibniz,  Bacon,  Locke,  and  Kant,  ^\^ll  impart  a 
choiceness  to  the  clergyman's  metaphysical  disci- 
pline, that  cannot  be  obtained  without  them  ;  and, 
that  cannot  be  obtained  by  a  perusal  of  the  hun- 
dreds and  thousands  of  second-rate  works  in  this 
provinceJi  These  are  virtually  the  whole.  The 
entii'e  department  of  philosophy,  is  potentially  in 
these  eight  authors.  They  are  the  fountains  whence 
all  others  draw. 

It  now  remains  to  mark  out  a  course  of  study, 
in  the  department  of  theology.  And  the  first 
name  in  the  series,  both  chronologically  and  in- 
trinsically, with  which  the  clergyman  ought  to  be- 
come familiar,  is  that  of  Augustine.  The  position 
of  this  writer,  in  systematic  theology,  is  very  central ; 
so  that  a  clear  understanding  of  him,  is  a  clue  to 
very  much  that  comes  after  him.  Though  not 
every  thing  in  his  writings  is  fully  developed,  or 
accurately  developed,  yet,  the  principal  seeds  and 
germs  of  the  modern  Protestant  theology  are  found 
in  them,  and  he,  more  than  any  other  one  of  thq 
Fathers,  and  fiir  more  than  any  one  of  the  School- 
men, constitutes  the  organic  link  of  connection, 
between  Scriptural  Christianity  in  the  Ancient 
Church,  and  Scriptural  Christianity  in  the  Modern. 
And  besides  the  scientific  interest  which  the  most 


362  PASTOKAL   THEOLOGY. 

tlistinguislied  of  tlie  Christian  Fathers  awakens,  his 
personal  character  itself  wins  uj^on  the  admiration 
of  the  student,  all  the  days  of  his  life.  His  entire 
works  are  no  longer  difficult  of  access,  through  the 
cheap  reprint  in  Migne's  series  of  the  Fathers  and 
Schoolmen.  Individual  writins-s  of  his  have  also 
been  republished,  which  may  be  obtained  as  readily 
as  the  Latin  and  Greek  classics.  Of  his  entire  works, 
may  be  mentioned  the  important  tenth  volume  in 
the  Benedictine  arrangement,  which  contains  his 
views  upon  the  great  themes  of  sin  and  grace,  in 
opposition  to  Pelagianism  and  Semi-Pelagianism. 
To  these  must  be  added  the  De  Clvitate  Dei,  and 
the  Coiifessiones, — the  one  doctrinal,  and  the  other 
biographical.  The  City  of  God  is  one  of  Augustine's 
largest  works,  and  conveys  a  more  adequate  im- 
pression of  him  as  a  systematizer,  than  any  other 
single  treatise  of  his.  It  is  somewhat  unequal  in 
structure.  This,  however,  arose,  in  part,  from  the 
disposition  to  be  exhaustive  in  the  investigation, 
not  only  of  the  principal  topics  in  theology,  but  of 
all  collateral  topics.  Augustine,  for  example,  dis- 
cusses the  question,  "  How  ought  the  bodies  of  saints 
to  be  buried  ?"  with  as  much  serious  earnestness, 
and  as  strong  a  desire  to  answer  it  correctly,  as  he 
does  the  question,  "  What  was  the  condition  of  the 
first  man  before  his  fall  ?"  This  same  inclination 
to  take  up  every  j)oint  and  exhaust  it,  is  seen  in 
the  Schoolmen  as  well  as  the  Fathers,  and  accounts 
for  the  Avood,  hay,  and   stubble,  mixed  with   the 


INTELLECTUAL    CHAEACTEK.  363 

gold,    silver,   and   precious   stones   found   in   their 
writini2:s. 

The  clergyman  should,  next,  be  familiar  with 
the  Scholastic  theology,  so  far  as  is  possible  for  him. 
Very  little  is  now  known  of  the  thcQlogians  of  the 
Middle  Ages,  even  by  professed  scholars  and  authors. 
The  great  minds  among  them,  however,  deserve  to 
be  read,  at  least  in  a  few  of  their  best  tracts  and 
treatises.  On  the  whole,  Anselm  deserves  most 
attention,  because  he  unites  the  speculative  and 
practical  tendencies,  in  greatest  harmony.  Thomas 
Aquinas  has  left  the  most  important  systematic 
treatise  of  the  Middle  Ages,  and  should  be  associ- 
ated with  Anselm.  Lastly,  the  sj^iritual  and  saintly 
Bernard,  the  most  contemplative  of  the  Schoolmen, 
opens  many  veins  of  rich  and  edifying  thought. 
The  following  works  of  these  authors  may  be  the 
most  easily  obtained,  and  deserve  to  be  pondered  in 
the  order  in  which  they  are  mentioned.  Anselm's 
Cur  Deiis  Homo  ?  is  a  treatise,  in  which  the  philo- 
sophic necessity,  and  rationality,  of  the  doctrine  of 
atonement  is  exhibited  for  the  first  time,  and  which 
has  been  studied  by  the  ablest  thinkers  upon  this 
subject,  ever  since.  His  Proslorjion  and  Monologium 
are  two  closely  reasoned  tracts,  of  which,  the  first 
contains  the  most  metaphysical  a  priori  argument 
yet  made  for  the  Divine  Existence,  and  the  last,  an 
excellent  statement  of  the  relation  of  Keason  to  Reve- 
lation. The  three  tractates,  De  libero  arhitrio^  De 
casu  dldboli,  and  De  virginali  conceptu^  hold  the 


364  PASTOEAL   TKEOLOGY. 

clue  to  tlie  deep  mystery  of  the  finite  will,  and  the 
origin  of  moral  evil,  if  that  clue  has  ever  heen  vouch- 
safed to  the  human  intellect.  The  Summa  Theologi- 
ca  of  Thomas  Aquinas,  is  the  systematic  theology  of 
the  Middle  Ages.  The  Sententice,  De  consider atione^ 
and  De  modo  hene  vivendi^  of  Bernard,  will  intro- 
duce the  student  to  trains  of  reflection,  in  which 
there  is  a  rare  union  of  depth  with  edification. 

The  next  era,  in  the  history  of  theology,  is  that 
of  the  Reformation,  including  also  the  succeeding 
period  of  conflict  between  Calvinists  and  Armi- 
aians.  Calvin  and  Turretin  are  the  two  leading 
theological  minds  of  this  period,  and  the  clergyman 
cannot  study  the  Institutes  of  the  former,  and  the 
Institiitio  of  the  latter,  too  patiently  or  too  long. 
In  the  former,  he  will  find  the  comj)letion  of  the 
systematic  structure  whose  foundations  were  laid 
by  Augustine,  while  in  the  latter,  the  more  minute 
and  thorough  elaboration  of  particular  doctrines 
appears.  For,  controversy  compels  thorough  state- 
ments ;  and  that  discussion  between  the  Calvinists 
and  Arminians,  was  one  of  the  most  analytic  and 
subtle  that  has  ever  occurred. 

The  English  divines  of  the  seventeenth  century, 
next  deserve  the  study  of  the  clergyman.  If  he 
w^ere  to  be  shut  up,  as  he  ought  not  to  be,  to  a  sin- 
gle period  in  the  history  of  theology,  and  to  com- 
munion with  a  single  class  or  school,  it  would  be 
safe  to  leave  him  alone  with  the  theologians  of 
England,  both  Prelatical  and  Non-conforming.   They 


INTELLECTUAL  CHAEACTEK.         365 

were  men  of  the  widest  reading,  the  most  thorougli 
learning,  and  tlie  most  profound  piety.  There  are 
many  noble  names  among  them,  but,  in  accordance 
with  a  parsimonious  method,  and  having  special 
reference  to  dogmatic  theology,  we  shall  mention 
only  Owen,  Howe,  and  Baxter.  Though  the  theo- 
retic and  the  practical  elements  wonderfully  inter- 
penetrate each  other,  in  the  writings  of  all  three, 
yet  each  has  his  distinguishing  excellence.  Owen 
is  the  most  comprehensively  systematic,  Howe  the 
most  contemplative  and  profound,  and  Baxter  the 
most  intense  and  popularly  effective. 

The  last  writer,  in  the  series,  is  the  elder  Ed- 
wards,— a  theologian  equal  to  any  that  have  been 
mentioned,  whether  we  consider  the  depth  and  sub- 
tlety of  his  understanding,  the  comprehension  and 
cogency  of  his  logic,  or  the  profundity  and  purity 
of  his  religious  experience,  and  who  deserves  the 
patient  study  of  the  American  clergyman,  in  particu- 
lar, because,  more  than  any  other  American  theo- 
logian, he  forms  an  historical  connection  with  the 
theologies  of  the  past,  and  stands  confessedly  at 
the  head  of  our  scientific  theology. 

"We  have,  now,  passed  in  review  the  departments 
of  poetry,  philosophy,  and  theology,  and  we  think 
that  any  one  would  concede,  that  a  course  of  study 
such  as  we  have  marked  out,  would  result  in  a  high 
type  of  intellectual  character.  By  pursuing  it,  the 
mind  of  the  clergyman  would  be  put  into  commu- 
nication with  all  the  best  culture,  and  science,  of  the 


366  PASTORAL   THEOLOGY. 

human  race.  Sucli  a  choice  intellectual  discipline 
would  give  him  influence  with  the  most  highl}? 
educated  men  in  society,  and  the  respect  of  the 
peoj^le  at  large.  The  people  naturally  venerate 
learning.  They  expect  it  in  their  religious  teacher, 
and  they  are  impressed  by  it.  It  inspires  their 
confidence.  Baxter,  in  speaking  upon  this  point,  in 
his  Reformed  Pastor,  goes  so  far  as  to  recommend 
the  preacher,  to  introduce,  occasionally,  into  his  ser- 
mons a  scholastic  word,  or  a  learned  term,  which 
the  people  do  not  understand,  in  order  to  show  that 
he  is  familiar  with  sciences  and  branches  of  knowl- 
edge, with  which  they  themselves  are  unacquainted. 
Baxter  recommends  this  in  all  seriousness  and  so- 
lemnity, as  he  does  every  thing  else.  The  rule  is  not 
worth  observing,  but  the  spirit  of  it  is. 

Such  an  intellectual  discipline,  moreover,  leaves 
room  for  growth  and  expansion,  and  impels  to  it. 
The  standard  minds,  as  we  have  remarked,  are  in 
one  and  the  same  general  line  of  thinking,  and 
hence,  all  the  acquisition  that  is  made  by  the  stu- 
dent, is  homogeneous.  He  is  not  compelled  to  un- 
xcarn  any  thing.  He  is  studying  one  common  sys- 
tem of  truth,  and  employs  one  common  method  of 
apprehending  and  stating  it ;  so  that  whatever  may 
be  the  particular  part  of  the  great  whole,  which  he 
is  studying  for  the  time  being,  the  results  of  his 
study  will  fall  in  with  all  other  results,  and  go  to 
constitute  a  harmonic  and  symmetrical  education. 
The  plan  of  clerical  study,  upon  this  scheme,  is  like 


INTELLECTUAL    CHARACTEiJ.  361 

the  plan  of  a  perfect  campaign.  All  the  movements 
are  adjusted  to  each  other,  and.  are  coherent ;  so 
that  at  whatever  point  the  individual  soldier  labors, 
and.  however  distant  from  head-quarters,  he  is  con- 
tributing directly  to  the  one  predetermined  and  fore- 
seen issue.  Hence,  although  we  have  mentioned 
the  standard  authors  chronologically,  as  the  most 
convenient  and  natural  order,  it  is  not  necessary 
that  the  clergyman  should  invariably  study  them  in 
this  order.  Let  him  be  retrogressive,  or  progres- 
sive, as  he  pleases ;  let  him  begin  anywhere  in  the 
series,  and  with  any  single  writer,  and  he  will  be  in 
line,  and  may  form  connections  with  the  front  and 
the  rear.  He  may,  also,  indefinitely  expand  his  sys- 
tem of  study, — widening  and  deepening  the  founda- 
tions, rearing  iip  and  beautifying  the  superstructure, 
— and  yet  never  essentially  varying  the  form,  and 
proportions,  of  the  temple  of  truth  and  of  science. 

But  how,  it  may  be  asked,  is  the  clergyman, 
with  all  his  public  and  private  occupations,  to  find 
time,  for  such  an  extensive  and  thorou2:h  course  of 
study  ?  We  shall  devote  the  short  remainder  of 
the  chapter,  to  the  answer  to  this  question.  Before 
proceeding,  however,  to  give  specific  rules,  let  iis 
observe  that  this  is  a  course  of  study  for  life.  It  is 
not  to  be  run  through  in  a  year,  or  ten  years,  and 
then  to  give  ])lace  to  another.  It  is  not  to  be  out- 
grown, and  left  behind.  One  of  the  most  eloquent 
and  enthusiastic  of  literar}"  men  remarks,  that  the 
scholar  should  "  lay  great  bases  for  eternity," — that 


368  PASTORAL   TITGiOLOGY. 

is,  he  sliould  adopt  a  plan  and  method  of  study,  which 
possesses  compass  enough,  and  coherence  enough,  to 
be  ever  permanent,  for  purposes  of  discipline  and 
scholarship.  The  clergyman  should  intellectually, 
as  well  as  morally,  lay  great  bases  for  eternity.  He 
ought  not,  therefore,  to  be  overwhelmed  in  the  very 
outset,  by  the  greatness  of  the  proposed  edifice,  but 
should  relieve  his  mind,  by  remembering  that  he 
has  his  whole  life  before  him. 

In  order  to  the  successful  prosecution  of  such  a 
course  of  study,  and  the  attainment  of  a  high  intel- 
lectual discipline,  the  clergyman  must  rigorously 
observe  hours  of  study.  His  mornings  must  be 
seasons  of  severe  api^lication.  By  proper  arrange- 
ments, the  time  from  eight  to  one  may  be  a  period 
of  uninterrupted  devotion  to  literary  toil.  Of  these 
five  hours,  two  may  be  devoted  to  books,  and  three 
to  sermonizing ;  or,  in  the  outset,  one  hour  to  boohs, 
and  four  to  sermonizing.  Supposing  that  no  more 
than  six  hours  are  devoted  to  pure  study,  in  a  week, 
even  this,  in  the  course  of  twenty,  thirty,  forty,  or 
fifty  years,  would  carry  the  clergyman  over  a  verj 
wide  field  of  investigation,  and  carry  him  thoroughly. 
But,  as  he  advances  in  this  course,  he  will  find  his 
mind  strengthening,  his  faculties  becoming  more 
manageable,  and  his  resources  more  ample ;  so  that 
after  ten,  perhaps  five  years  have  elapsed,  the  two 
hours  are  sufficient  for  sermonizing,  and  the  three 
may  be  devoted  to  study.  As  the  clergyman  grows 
into  a  learned  and  systematic  thinker  he  becomes 


INTELLECTUAL    CIIAEACTER.  3G9 

able  to  preacli  with  mucli  less  immediate  prepara- 
tion. These  five  hours,  every  day,  are  sufficient  for 
literary  purposes,  provided  they  are  strictly  hours 
of  intellectual  toil.  Let  there  be,  in  the  study,  no 
idleness,  no  re  very,  and  no  reading  outside  of  the 
})rescribed  circle.  Let  the  mind  begin  to  work  as 
soon  as  the  door  is  shut,  and  let  it  not  cease  until 
the  clock  strikes  the  appointed  hour;  then  stop 
study,  and  stop  composition,  and  devote  the  remain- 
der of  the  day  to  parochial  labors,  the  amenities  of 
life,  and  the  relaxation  of  lighter  literature. 

Again,  in  order  to  the  prosecution  of  such  a 
course  of  study  as  has  been  described,  it  is  evident 
that  the  clergyman  must  read  no  more  of  second-rate 
literature,  of  either  the  past  or  the  present,  than  is 
consistent  with  these  severer  studies.  He  must 
dare  to  be  ignorant  of  much  of  it,  in  order  that  he 
may  know  the  Dli  majoi'um  gentium.  He  must 
purchase  very  little  of  it,  and  none  of  it  at  all,  until 
he  has  obtained  the  standard  works.  \  His  library, 
like  his  culture,  should  be  choice,  a  gem  of  a  library, 
and  then  he  will  not  be,  tempted  by  inferior  produc- 
tions to  waste  histime-U  And,  especially  must  he  be 
upon  his  guard  against  the  great  mass  of  periodical 
literature  that  is  coming  into  existence,  and  dying 
as  fast  as  it  is  born.  Periodical  literature,  as  a  spe- 
cies, is  the  direct  contraiy  of  standard  literature, 
and  its  influence  upon  education  is  directly  antago- 
nistic to  that  of  true  study.    The  nature  of  this  class 

of  mental  products,  is  analogous  to  that  of  one  of 
24 


370  PASTORAL   THEOLOGY. 

the  lowest  grades  of  animal  existence.  The  periodi- 
cal is  like  a  poly^iiis.  The  polyp  propagates  itself  by 
sprouting  and  swelling,  like  a  vegetable.  Cut  a  polyp 
into  two  halves,  and  these  two  halves  complete  them- 
selves, and  become  two  polypi.  Cut  each  of  these 
two  into  two,  they  become  four  perfect  polypi ;  and 
so  the  process  goes  on,  ad  infinitum.  And  this  is 
the  process  in  periodical  literature.  A  very  slender 
idea,  or  thought,  is  bisected,  and  these  parts  are  ex- 
hibited, each  as  a  complete  whole,  and  the  entire 
truth.  These,  again,  are  subdivided  by  another 
journalist,  and  re-exhibited,  and  thus  the  polyp- 
process  goes  on,  until  a  single  idea,  not  ver}^  solid  at 
the  beginning,  is  made  to  propagate  itself  through 
page  after  page.  One  man  writes  a  book,  the  w^hole 
of  which  does  not  contain  a  thousandth  part  of  the 
truth  that  is  to  be  found  in  some  standard  work. 
Another  %mtes  a  review  of  this  book, — unless,  per- 
chance, to  employ  the  comparison  of  Matthias  Clau- 
dius, the  hen  reviews  her  own  Q,Q^g.  Another  writes 
a  re\^ew  of  this  review,  and  so  the  work  goes  bravely 
on,  from  month  to  month,  and  year  to  year. 

The  true  course,  for  the  clergyman,  as  well  as  for 
the  student  generally,  is  to  devote  no  more  attention 
to  the  current  and  pei'iodical  literature  of  his  age, 
than  is  just  sufficient  to  keep  him  acquainted  with  its 
tendencies,  and  currents  of  thought  and  action,  devo- 
ting himself,  in  the  meanwhile,  to  those  standard  pro- 
ducts which  are  for  all  time,  and  from  which  alone, 
he  can  derive  true  intellectual  aliment  and  strensfth. 


CHAPTER   IV. 

SOCIAL   AND    PROFESSIONAL    CHARACTER    OP    THE    CLER- 
GYIIAX. 

The  third  topic  in  Pastoral  Theology,  to  be  ex- 
amined, is  the  social  and  professional  cliaracter  of 
the  clergyman.  These  terms  will  be  employed  in 
a  compreLensive  sense,  and  include  all  tliat  part  of 
clerical  character,  which  has  not  been  considered 
under  the  heads  of  religious,  and  intellectual.  The 
subject  of  clerical  manners,  naturally  constitutes 
the  substance  of  this  chapter.  These  are  twofold, 
and  may  be  discussed,  in  their  reference  to  the  per- 
sonal conduct  of  the  clergyman  towards  individuals, 
and  his  professional  conduct  towards  his  congre- 
gation. 

1.  In  respect  to  the  first  branch  of  the  subject, 
it  is  obvious,  that  the  conduct,  and  bearing,  of  a 
clergyman  ought  to  be  appropriate  to  bis  j^rofession, 
and  distinguish  him,  not  perhaps  from  a  Christian 
man  generally,  but  from  the  world  at  large.  A 
sanctimonious  behavior,  so  different  from  that  of  a 
Christian  gentleman,  as  to  call  attention  to  it^aud 
inspire  contempt,  is  to  be  carefully  avoided.  \  A 


372  PASTORAL   THEOLOGY. 

clergyman  ouglit  not  to  advertise  himself  before- 
Land,  and,  by  something  exquisite  and  peculiar, 
give  notice  that  he  is  more  than  a  Christian  layman ; 
yet,  he  should  always  maintain  such  a  port  and 
demeanor,  that  a  stranger,  while  plainly  seeing  that 
he  is  a  Christian,  would  not  be  S]irprised  to  dis- 
cover that  he  is  also  a  clergyman^^J 

The  clergyman  ought  to  be\of  grave  manners^;;::^ 
in  the  phrase  of  St.  Paul,  a  man  of  decorum 
(xdcr^tog).^  His  behavior  in  society  must  be  seri- 
ous. He  should  make  the  impression  that  he  is 
a  thoughtful  person.  These  terms,  gravity,  serious- 
ness, and  thoughtfulness,  imply  that  his  mind  is  pre- 
occupied with  great  and  good  subjects,  so  that 
wherever  he  goes,  and  with  whomsoever  he  asso- 
ciates, he  cannot  stoop  to  "  foolish  talking  and  jest- 
ing," to  frivolity,  gayety,  or  levity.  Gravity,  though 
assumeable  for  the  hour,  cannot  be  permanently 
simulated.  The  hypocrisy  is  sooner  or  later  de- 
tected. The  innate  levity  of  the  mind  unconsciously 
breaks  out.  A  single  word  betrays  the  secret,  and 
then  there  is  no  recalling.  For,  men  reason  correct- 
ly, that  a  really  light-minded  person  can  temporarily 
assume  seriousness  and  gravity,  and  often  has  a 
motive  to  do  so,  but  a  really  serious  and  solemn 
man  cannot,  so  readily,  imitate  levity  and  worldli- 
ness,  and,  what  is  mor^e,  will  not,  because  he  has  no 
motive  for  so  doing.    iHence,  the  secret  of  Christian 

'  ^1  Tim.  iii.  2. 


PE0FE3SI0NAL   CHARACTEPv.  373 

decorum  in  social  intercourse  is,  to  be  really,  and  at 
heart,  a  Serious  man.  Let  the  clergyman  form  such 
a  reliirious,  and  such  an  intellectual  character,  as 
we  have  described,  and  be  absorbed  in  his  calling, 
and  he  will  spontaneously  be  grave  and  dignified  in 

manner.  .  . 

Secondly,  the  clergyman  should  be/ of  afaUe 
manners^  As  the  etymology  denotes  (affari)^  it 
must  be  easy  for  him  to  speak  to  others,  and,  thus, 
easy  for  others  to  speak  to  him.  He  ought  to  be 
an  accessible  person,  in  social  intercourse.  Clerical 
character  is  apt  to  run  to  extremes.  On  the  one 
hand,  gra\4ty  becomes  false  and  excessive,  so  that 
it  repels  address.  If  this  be  the  case,  the  clergy- 
man's influence  is  much  diminished.  The  timid 
are  afraid  of  him,  and  the  suspicious  dislike  him; 
and  thus,  the  really  good  man  is  avoided  by  two 
very  large  classes  of  society.  By  one,  he  is  thought 
to  be  stern,  and  by  the  other,  he  is  thought  to  be 
proud.  On  the  other  hand,  affability  sometimes 
becomes  excessive,  so  that  the  clergyman  loses 
dignity  of  character,  and  weight  of  influence.  He 
is  too  ready  to  talk.  He  speaks  u2:)on  all  sub- 
jects, with  the  same  ease,  and  the  same  apparent 
interest.  He  opens  his  mind  to  every  one  he  meets, 
without  regard  to  character,  and,  unlike  his  Divine 
Master,  "  commits  himself"  to  men.^  There  is  not 
Buflicient  reserve  in  his  manner.     He  does  not  study 

'John  ii.  24. 


374  PASTOEAL   THEOLOGY. 

tlie  characters  of  Dien,  and  consequently  does  not 
know  men.  His  conversation  is  not  adapted  to  tlie 
individual  lie  is  addressing,  because  it  is  adapted 
to  every  one  alike.  The  consequence  is,  that  affa- 
bility degenerates  into  familiarity,  and  familiarity 
breeds  contempt.  The  social  manners  of  tke  clergy- 
man ought,  therefore,  to  be  a  just  mingling  of  gravi- 
ty and  affability.  The  one  must  temper  the  other, 
and  prevent  an  extreme,  in  either  direction.  The 
clergyman  will  tlien  be  a  dignified  and  serious  man, 
to  that  degree  whick  represses  frivolity,  and  inspires 
respect.  And  ke  will  be  an  affable  man,  to  tkat 
point  wkick  wakens  confidence,  and  wins  regard. 

2.  We  pass,  now,  to  consider  tke  professional 
bearing  of  the  clergyman  among  the  people  of  kis 
ckarge.  Tke  clergyman  sustains  more  intimate  and 
special  relations  to  kis  parisk,  tkan  ke  does  to  gen- 
eral society  and  tke  world  at  large.  He  is  a  person 
of  more  autkority  and  influence  in  kis  own  ckurch, 
tkan  elsewkere,  and  kence  the  need  of  further  state- 
ments and  rules,  than  those  tkat  kave  been  given 
respecting  kis  general  social  relations. 

In  tke  first  place,  it  is  tke  rigkt  and  tke  duty  of 
tke  clergyman,  to  be  a  man  of  decision,  in  adminis- 
tering tke  affairs  of  kis  parish.  The  apostle  James, 
addressing  a  Christian  ckurch,  gives  tke  admoni- 
tion, "  Be  not  many  masters"  (hihaaxaT^oi)^ — indica- 
ting, tkereby,  tkat  tke  interests  of  a  congregation 

'  James  iii.  1. 


PEOFESSIONAL   CnAEACTEE.  375 

flourisli  best  under  tlie  guidance  of  ca  presiding 
mind.  When  clnircli  members  are  disposed,  each 
and  every  one,  to  be  the  teacher,  nothing  but  rival- 
ry among  themselves,  and  the  destruction  of  minis- 
terial authority  and  respect,  can  possibly  result. 
The  genius  of  a  truly  Scriptural  ecclesiastical  polity 
is  undoubtedly  republican.  Whenever  the  monar- 
chical spirit  has  shaped  ecclesiastical  government, 
the  Church  has  speedily  declined  in  spirituality  and 
power,  as  the  history  of  the  Paj^acy,  not  to  speak 
of  other  chui'ch  organizations,  plainly  evinces.  But, 
republicanism  is  not  a  wild  and  ungoverned  democ- 
racy. It  supposes,  indeed,  like  democracy,  that  all 
power  is  ultimately  lodged  in  the  people,  but,  un- 
like democracy,  it  supposes  that  some  of  this  power 
has  been  freely  delegated  to  an  individual,  or  indi- 
viduals, who,  by  virtue  of  this  endowment,  possess 
an  authority,  which,  as  ordinary  members  of  the 
community,  they  would  not  have.  The  people  of  a 
republic  are  not  compelled  to  delegate  their  sove- 
reignty,— it  is  a  voluntary  2)rocedure  on  their  part ; 
and  neither  are  they  compelled  to  bestow  power 
upon  any  particular  man,  or  class  of  men.  But, 
when  they  have  once  freely  made  their  choice  of 
officers,  and  have  solemnly  invested  them  with 
authority,  and  a  delegated  sovereignty,  then  they 
have  no  option  in  regard  to  obeying  their  rulers. 
They  are  bound  to  respect  their  own  work.  They 
are  solemnly  obligated  to  submit  themselves  to  the 
government  which  they  themselves  have  established, 


376  PASTOEAL   THEOLOGY. 

SO  lono;  as  it  is  faitliful  to  the  trusts  that  have  been 
committed  to  it.  The  difference  between  a  pure 
democracy  and  a  republic,  consists  not  in  any  differ- 
ence of  opinion  respecting  the  ultimate  seat  of  sove- 
reignty. Both,  alike,  claim  that  it  resides  in  the 
people.  But,  a  pure  democracy  does  not  put  any  of 
this  sovereignty  out  of  its  own  hands.  It  never 
delegates  authority.  As  in  Athens,  the  entire  popu- 
lation meet  in  popular  assembly,  enact  or  repeal 
laws,  tiy  causes  as  a  court,  and  make  peace  or  de- 
clare war.  The  j^eople,  in  this  instance,  are  not 
only  the  source  of  authority,  but  the  acting  govern- 
ment itself.  Republicanism,  on  the  contrary,  while 
adopting  the  same  fundamental  principle  wdth  de- 
mocracy, finds  it  more  conducive  to  a  stable  and 
reliable  government,  to  lodge  power,  for  certain 
specified  purposes,  in  the  hands  of  a  few,  subject  to 
constitutional  checks, — to  a  recall  in  case  of  mal- 
administration, and,  in  some  instances,  to  a  recall 
after  a  certain  sj^ecified  time,  even  though  it  has 
been  well  used.  Most  Churches  in  this  country 
claim,  that  the  Scriptures  enjoin  a  republican  form 
of  polity.  Very  few  are  disposed  to  contend  for  a 
purely  democratic  ecclesiastical  organization.  The 
dispute  between  non-prelatical  Churches,  relates 
mainly  to  the  grade  of  republicanism, — ^that  is,  to 
the  amount  of  authority  that  shall  be  delegated, 
the  number  of  persons  to  whom,  and  the  time  for 
which. 

We  assume,  therefore,  that  under  existing  eccle- 


PROFESSIONAL   CHAEACTER.  377 

siastical  aiTangements,  the  pastor  is  a  man  to  wlioin 
the  people  have  intrusted  more  ^r  less  authority. 
In  the  Presbyterian  Church,  they  have  formally 
dispossessed  themselves  of  power,  to  a  certain  ex- 
tent, and  have  made  it  over  to  the  session,  consisting 
of  the  pastor  and  elders.  In  the  Congi-egational 
Church,  though  they  have  not  formally  done  this, 
and  though  they  reserve  the  "  power  of  the  keys " 
iu  their  own  hands,  yet,  they  expect  their  clergy- 
man to  be  the  presiding  mind  of  the  body. 

The  clergyman,  then,  standing  in  this  leading 
attitude  in  his  parish,  ought  to  be  a  man  of  decision. 
But,  this  implies  that  his  0"\vn  mind  is  settled,  and 
established.  There  is  nothing:  which  weakens  a 
leading  man,  that  is,  a  man  who  by  his  position 
ought  to  lead,  like  wavering,  and  indecision. 
Doubt  and  uncertainty  are  a  tacit  acknowledgment 
of  unfitness  to  guide,  and  preside.  The  clergyman 
must,  therefore,  be  positive  in  his  theological  opin- 
ions. Inasmuch  as  he  is  called  to  the  work  of  in- 
doctrination, he  ought  to  be  clear  in  his  own  mind. 
It  is  his  vocation,  to  shape  the  religious  views  of 
an  entire  community,  and,  consequently,  his  own 
views  ought  not  only  to  be  correct,  but  firmly  es- 
tablished. For,  how  can  he  say  to  his  auditory, 
"  This  doctrine  is  false,  and  fatal  to  your  salvation ; 
but  tliis  doctrine  is  true,  and  you  may  rest  your 
eternal  welfiire  upon  it," — how  can  he  say  this  with 
any  emphasis,  unless  he  knows  what  he  is  saying, 
and   is   made   decided,   by   his   knowledge?     The 


378  PASTOEAL    THEOLOGY. 

clergyman's  communication  must  not  he  yea  and 
nay,  together.  King  Lear,  in  liis  madness,  remarks 
that,  "  Ay  and  no,  too,  is  no  good  divinity,"  and 
tliere  is  reason  if  not  method,  in  his  madness. 

And  so  far  as  the  doctrines  of  Christianity  are 
concerned,  why  should  not  the  clergyman  be  a  man 
of  decided  opinions  ?  If  the  gospel  were  a  merely 
human  system,  there  would  be  ground  for  hesita- 
tion and  doubt ;  but  since  it  is  the  revelation  of  an 
Infallible  Mind,  what  is  left  for  the  Christian 
teacher,  but  to  re-affirm  the  Divine  affirmation,  with 
all  the  positiveness  and  decision  of  the  original  com- 
munication itself?  The  Scriptures  teach  but  one 
system  of  truth,  though  the  ingenuity  of  the  human 
intellect,  under  the  actuation  of  particular  biases, 
has  succeeded  in  torturing  a  variety  of  conflicting 
systems  out  of  it,  by  dislocating  its  parts,  instead  of 
contemplating  it  as  a  whole.  This  one  evangelical 
system  has  been  received  by  the  Christian  Church 
in  all  ages,  and  if  the  clergyman  feels  the  need  of 
aids  in  getting  at  it,  imbedded  as  it  is  in  the  living, 
and  therefore  flexible,  substance  of  the  Bible,  let 
him  study  the  creeds  of  the  Christian  Church.  An 
examination  of  the  doctrinal  statements  which  the 
orthodox  mind  has  constructed  out  of  the  Bible,  to 
counteract,  and  refute  those  which  the  heterodox 
mind  has  also  constructed  out  of  the  Bible,  will  do 
one  thing,  at  least,  for  the  clergyman,  if  it  does 
nothing  more.  It  will  very  plainly  show  him  what 
system  of  truth  the  Scriptures  contain,  in  the  opinion 


PEOFESSIOI^"AL   CHARACTER.  379 

of  the  Cliurcli.  The  Church,  it  is  true,  may  be  mis- 
taken.  It  is  not  infallible.  Creeds  may  be  errone- 
ous. But  after  this  concession  has  been  made,  it 
still  remains  true,  that  the  symbols  of  the  Christian 
Church  do  very  clearly,  and  fully,  display  the  opin- 
ions of  the  wisest  and  holiest  men,  and  the  closest 
students  of  the  Scriptures,  for  sixteen  hundred 
years,  in  respect  to  the  actual  contents  of  Revelation. 
The  clergyman  who  adopts  the  theology  embodied 
in  them  may  possibly  be  in  an  error ;  but  if  he  is, 
he  is  in  good  company,  and  in  a  large  comj)any. 
Moreover,  that  man  must  have  a  very  exaggerated 
conception  of  his  own  powers,  who  supposes  that  he 
will  be  more  likely  to  find  the  real  teaching  of  the 
Scrij)tures,  upon  each  and  all  of  the  j)rofouud  sub- 
jects respecting  which  it  makes  revelations,  by  shut- 
ting;: himself  out  of  all  intercourse  with  other  human 
minds,  who  have  ffone  throuirh  the  same  investis-a- 
tion.  That  the  Bible  must  be  studied  by  each  one 
for  himself,  and  that  each  individual  must,  in  the 
end,  deliberately  exercise  his  own  judgment,  and 
form  his  own  opinion  as  to  the  system  of  truth  con- 
tained in  Revelation,  is  the  fundamental  distinction 
between  Protestantism  and  Romanism.  But  this 
does  not  carry  with  it,  the  still  further,  and  really  an- 
tagonistic position,  that  the  individual  should  isolate 
himself  from  the  wise,  and  the  good  men  who  have 
preceded  him,  or  are  his  cotemporaries,  and  do  his 
utmost  to  be  uninfluenced  by  those  who  have 
studied   the  Scriptures  for  themselves,  and   have, 


380  PASTORAL   THEOLOGY. 

moreover,  found   tliemselves   coming   to  the   same 
common  result,  with  thousands  and  millions  of  their 
fellow-men.     There  is,  and  can  be,  but  one  truth, 
and  therefore  all  men  ought  to  agree.    The  position, 
that,  so  far  as  the  nature  of  the  case  is  concerned, 
there  may  be  as  many  minds  as  there  are  men,  and 
as  many  beliefs  as  there  are  individual  judgments, 
is  untenable.     We  affirm,  then,  that  the  clergyman 
should  make  a  proper  use  of  the  studies,  and  inves- 
tigations, of  his  brethren  in  the  Church,  not  merely 
of  the  particular  Church  to  which  he  belongs,  and 
not  merely  of  the  particular  Churches  of  the  age  and 
generation  in  which  he  lives,  but  of  the  Church  uni- 
versal,— the  holy  catholic  Church,  not  in  the  Roman 
sense,  but  in  that,  in  which  the  Scripture  employs 
the   term,  when  it   denominates  the  Church  "  the 
pillar  and  ground  of  the  truth."    And  the  result  of 
this  study  and  investigation  of  the  Scriptures,  by 
the   general  Christian   mind,  is    embodied   in   the 
creeds  that  have  formed  the  doctrinal  basis  of  the 
various  branches  of  the  one  body  of  Christ. 

Now,  the  clergyman  will  be  likely  to  be  positive 
in  his  doctrinal  opinions,  in  proportion  as  he  per- 
ceives that  his  own  views  of  the  meaning,  and  con- 
tents of  Scripture,  are  corroborated  by  those  of  the 
wise  and  good  of  all  ages.  K,  on  the  contrary,  he 
finds  himself  unable  to  agree  with  his  predecessors, 
and  cotemporaries,  in  the  ministry,  we  do  not  see 
how  he  can  be  a  decided  man,  in  the  proper  sense 
of  this   term.     He   may  be  a  presumptuous,  self- 


PEOFESSIOI^AL   CHARACTER.  381 

couceited,  arrogant  man,  setting  up  liis  individual 
judgment  in  opposition  to  tliat  of  tlie  great  majority 
of  individual  judgments.  He  may  be  a  kind  of 
private  pope,  first  throwing  himself  out  of  tlie  line 
of  historical  Christianity,  and  then,  calling  upon  the 
Church  universal  to  unlearn  all  that  it  knows,  and 
forget  all  that  it  has  learned,  insisting  that  it  bend 
the  neck  and  bow  the  knee  to  the  new  infallibility 
that  has  appeared,— he  may  be  all  this  in  spirit,  if 
not  in  form,  and  still  be  very  far  from  being  estab- 
lished in  his  own  mind.  The  first  serious  opposition 
to  him,  would  probably  unsettle  his  views.  Yet, 
even  if  his  convictions  should  take  on  a  fanatical 
temper,  and  carry  him  like  Servetus  to  the  stake, 
he  knows  nothing  of  the  true  martyr-spirit. 

The  clergyman,  again,  is  obliged  to  form  opin- 
ions upon  other  subjects  than  doctrinal,  and  to  give 
exjiression  to  them.  The  social,  economical,  and 
political  questions  of  the  day,  will  be  put  to  him  by 
society,  or  else  he  will  feel  urged  up  to  an  expression 
of  opinion,  by  the  condition  and  wants  of  his  peoj^le. 
He  should  not,  by  any  means,  seek  for  opportuni- 
ties of  this  sort.  Blessed  is  the  clergyman,  who  is 
permitted  by  community,  and  his  own  conscience, 
to  devote  his  whole  thinking,  and  utterance,  to 
strictly  religious  themes.  Blessed  is  that  parish 
which  seeks  first  the  truth  as  it  is  in  Jesus,  takes 
most  interest  in  the  conviction  and  conversion  of 
sinners,  and  the  edification  of  Christians,  and  desires 
to  see  the  evils  of  society  removed,  by  additions  to 


382  PASTORAL    THEOLOGY. 

tlie  Church,  of  such  as  shall  be  saved.  Still,  the 
clergyman  will  not  be  permitted  to  be  entirely  silent 
during  his  whole  ministry,  respecting  those  semi- 
religious  subjects,  which  underlie  the  various  re- 
forms of  the  age.  He  should,  therefore,  be  a  decided 
man,  in  this  sphere,  as  well  as  that  of  theology. 
Let  him  not  be  in  haste  to  discuss  these  themes ;  let 
him  wait  for  the  sober  second  thought  upon  his  own 
part,  and  especially  ujDon  the  part  of  the  people, 
before  he  gives  his  opinion.  "  In  reference  to  the 
exciting  subjects  of  the  day  and  the  hour,"  said  a 
wise  and  judicious  minister,  "  do  as  the  sportsman 
does:  never  fire  when  the  flock  is  directly  over  your 
head ;  but  fire  when  it  has  passed  a  little  beyond 
you,  that  your  shot  may  be  raking."  When,  how- 
ever, the  time  has  evidently  come,  to  speak  upon 
these  semi-religious  themes,  the  clergyman  should 
do  so  with  decision.  Let  him  make  up  his  mind 
fully,  and  when  he  sees  that  the  interests  of  his  peo- 
ple requii'e  it,  let  him  speak  out  his  mind,  without 
doubting  or  wavering. 

But,  in  order  that  the  clergyman  may  be  a  decided 
man,  in  respect  to  such  themes  as  these,  he  needs  to 
pursue  the  same  course,  as  in  reference  to  strictly 
religious  opinions.  He  should  take  counsel  of  his- 
tory, and  of  the  wisest  men  of  his  own  generation. 
If  he  isolates  himself  from  them,  and  sets  up  for  a 
reformer,  or  associates  with  those  who  are  so  doing, 
he  cannot  be  a  truly  determined  man.  He  will  be 
blown  about,  by  the  popular  breeze  that  is  blowing 


PROFESSIONAL    CHAEACTEE.  383 

for  the  hour,  and  wliicli  changes  every  hour.  He 
"will  be  carried  headlong  by  designing  men,  who 
cloak  the  worst  aims  under  a  religious  garb.  In 
the  present  condition  of  society,  there  is  great  need 
of  a  power,  in  the  clergy,  to  stem  currents, — of  a 
decision,  and  determination,  that  is  rooted  in  intelli- 
gence, in  reason,  and  in  wisdom.  But  such  a  settled 
and  constant  mental  firmness,  can  proceed  only  from 
a  historic  spirit,  or,  what  is  the  same  thing,  out  of  a 
truly  conservative  temper.  For,  conservatism,  prop- 
erly defined,  is  the  disposition  to  be  historical,  to 
attach  one's  self  to  those  opinions  which  have  stood 
the  test  of  time,  and  experience,  rather  than  to 
■throw  them  away,  and  invent  or  adopt  new  ones. 
A  conservative  theologian,  for  example,  is  inclined 
to  that  system  of  doctrine  which  has  been  slowly 
forminir  from  ao-e  to  ag^e,  ever  since  the  Christian 
Mind  beirau  a  scientific  construction  of  revealed 
truth,  and  is  unwilling  to  make  any  radical  changes 
in  it.  He  concedes  the  possibility  of  a  further  ex- 
pansion of  existing  materials,  but  is  opposed  to  the 
addition  of  new,  as  ^vell  as  the  subtraction  of  old 
matter.  He  does  not  believe  that  there  are  any 
new  dogmas,  lying  concealed,  in  the  Scriptures,  hav- 
ing utterly  escaped  the  notice  of  the  theologians  of 
the  i:)ast.  Christianity,  for  him,  is  a  completed  re- 
ligion. The  number  of  fundamental  truths  neces- 
sary to  human  salvation,  is  full.  Tlie  Church  of  the 
past  needed  the  same  truths,  in  order  to  its  sanctifi- 
cation  and  perfection,  that  the  Church  of  the  present 


384  PASTOEAL   THEOLOGY. 

needs ;  and  it  possessed  eacli  and  every  one  of  them. 
There  can  be  no  essential  addition,  therefore,  to  the 
body  of  Christian  doctrine,  until  another  and  new 
revelation  is  bestowed  from  God. 

This  historic  and  conservative  spirit  is  not  life- 
less and  formal,  as  is  frequently  charged.  It  does 
not  tend  to  petrifaction.  For,  it  keeps  the  individ- 
ual in  communication,  not  only  with  the  whole 
long  series  of  individual  minds,  but,  with  the  very 
best  results  to  which  they  have  come.  Conserva- 
tism is  dead  and  deadening,  only  upon  the  hypothe- 
sis, that  the  universal  history  of  man  is  the  realm 
of  death.  There  was  just  as  much  vitality  in 
the  past  generations,  as  there  is  in  the  present, 
which  is  soon  to  become  a  thing  of  the  past. 
Furthermore,  the  steady  and  strong  endeavor  to 
become  master  of  the  past,  stimulates  and  kindles 
in  the  highest  degree.  For,  this  knowledge  does 
not  flow  into  the  individual  as  a  matter  of  course. 
It  must  be  toiled  after,  and  the  more  the  student 
becomes  acquainted  with  the  past  workings  of  the 
human  mind,  the  more  conscious  is  he  of  his  own 
io;norance  as  an  individual.  He  finds  that  there  is 
much  more  in  the  past  with  which  he  is  unacquaint- 
ed, than  there  is  in  the  present.  He  discovers  that 
sixty  centuries  are  longer  than  three-score  years  and 
ten.  Where  one  subject  has  been  thoroughly  dis- 
cussed by  a  cotemporary,  one  hundred  have  been  by 
'  preceding  minds.  The  whole  past  thus  presents  an 
unlimited  expanse,  over  which  the  choicest  intellects 


PEOFESSIONAL    CHAEACTEE.  385 

have  careered,  and  instead  of  Lis  being  well  ac- 
quainted with  their  investigations  and  conclusions, 
he  finds  that  life  itself  is  too  short,  for  the  mastery 
of  all  this  tried  and  historic  knowledge.  The  old, 
therefore,  is  the  new  to  the  individual  mind,  and, 
as  such,  is  as  stimulating  as  the  novel  product  of . 
the  day,  and  more  likely  to  be  nutritious  and 
strengthening,  because  it  has  stood  the  test  of  ages 
and  generations. 

By  the  conservative,  rather  than  the  radical 
method,  then,  the  clergyman  should  render  himself 
a  decided  man  in  his  opinions  and  measures.  His 
mind  will  then  be  made  up  in  company  with 
others,  and  he  will  not  be  compelled  to  stand  alone, 
as  an  isolated  atom,  or,  at  most,  in  connection  with 
a  clique,  or  a  clan,  or  a  school,  that  has  nothing  of 
historic  permanence  in  it,  and  which  must  vanish 
away  with  the  thousands  of  similar  associations, 
and  never  be  even  heard  of  in  human  history,  be- 
cause history  preserves  only  the  tried  and  the  true 
for  all  time. 

In  the  second  place,  the  clergyman  ought  to  be 
a  judicious  man.  As  it  was  necessary  to  mingle 
afftibility  with  gravity,  in  order  to  an  excellent  man- 
ner for  the  clergyman  in  general  society,  so,  decision 
must  be  mingled  with  judgment,  in  order  to  an  ex- 
cellent manner  for  him  in  his  parish.  Judiciousness 
teaches  when  to  modify,  and  tem^^er,  the  Lesolutc 
and  settled  determination  "of  the  soul.  Some  sub- 
jects are  more  important  than  others.  Some  opin- 
25 


386  PASTORAL   THEOLOGY. 

ions  and  measures  are  vital  to  tlie  prosperity  of  re- 
ligion, and  others  are  not.  The  clergyman  must  be 
able  to  distinguish  fundamentals  from  non-funda- 
mentals, so  that  he  may  proceed  accordingly.  It  is 
absurd  to  be  equally  decided  upon  all  points.  A 
conservatism  that  conserves  every  thing  with  equal 
care,  insisting  that  one  thing  is  just  as  valuable  as 
another,  is  blind,  and  therefore  false.  It  is  this 
sj)urious  species  which  has  brought  the  true  into 
disrepute ;  or,  rather,  has  furnished  the  enemies  of 
historic  views,  and  a  historic  spirit,  with  their 
strongest  weapons. 

When  a  fundamental  truth  is  menaced,  or  a 
fundamentally  wrong  measure  is  proposed,  the  cler- 
gyman must  be  immovable.  In  the  phrase  of  Ig- 
natius, he  should  "  stand  like  an  anvil."  If  he  does 
so,  he  will  in  the  end  spoil  the  face  of  the  hammers, 
and  wear  out  the  strength  of  the  hammerers.  But 
when  the  matter  in  controversy  is  not  of  this  vital 
nature,  even  though  it  have  great  importance,  judi- 
ciousness in  the  clergyman  would  dictate  more  or 
less  of  yielding.  If  the  clei'gyman  can  bring  his 
parish  over  to  his  own  views,  upon  every  subject,  he 
ought  to  do  so ;  but  if  he  cannot,  then  he  must 
accomplish  the  most  he  can.  In  case  the  congrega- 
tion are  restless,  and  disposed  to  experiments,  he 
will  be  more  likely  to  prevent  radical  and  danger- 
ous steps,  in  primary  matters  and  measures,  if  he 
yields  his  individual  judgment  to  them,  in  secondary 
matters.     His   people   will   perceive    that   he   has 


PEOFESSIOXAL   CIIA.KACTEE.  387 

made  a  sacrifice,  in  regard  to  subjects  wliicli  lie  deems 
to  be  important,  tliougli  not  fundamental,  and  will 
feel  obliizated  and  inclined  to  make  one  in  return, 
wlien,  witli  a  serious  tone,  and  a  solemn  manner,  lie 
insists  tliat  tliere  be  no  yielding,  upon  either  their 
part,  or  his  own,  in  matters  that  are  absolutely  vital 
to  4he-4ntcrests  of  Christ's  kingdom. 

I  By  thus  mingling  decision  wath  judiciousness, 
the  clergyman  will  be  able  to  maintain  himself  as 
the  presiding  mind  in  his  j^ansh^'^  It  is  his  duty  to 
be  such.  He  cannot  be  useful,  unless  he  is.  We 
do  not  hesitate  to  say,  that  if,  after  fair  trial  of  a 
congregation,  a  minister  discovers  that  he  cannot 
secure  that  ascendency,  in  the  guidance  and  manage- 
ment of  their  religious  affairs,  to  which  he  is  enti- 
tled, his  prospects  for  joermanent  influence  are  too 
slight  to  ^varrant  much  hope.  But,  a  due  mingling 
of  intelligent  decision,  and  wise  judgment,  generally 
does,  as  matter  of  fact,  secure  that  professional  au- 
thority and  influence  in  the  parish,  w^hich  is  insep- 
arably connected  with  the  prosperity  of  religion. 
Under  the  voluntary  system,  the  clergyman  is  not 
much  aided  by  ecclesiastical  institutions,  or  arrange- 
ments, and  the  republicanism  of  the  people  strips 
off  from  the  clerical  office,  as  it  does  from  all  other 
offices,  the  prestige  of  mere  position.  The  American 
clergyman,  unlike  the  member  of  an  establish- 
ment, derives  no  authority  from  the  mere  fact  that 
he  is  a  clergyman.  It  is  w^ell,  that  it  is  so.  For  now 
he  must  rely  upon  solid  excellences,  upon  learning" 


388  PASTOEAL   THEOLOGY. 

and  piety,  upon  decision  and  good  judgment,  in  the 
administration  of  liis  office.  And  if  lie  possesses 
tliese  qualities,  lie  will  be  a  more  truly  authoritative 
and  influential  man,  than  the  member  of  an  estab- 
lishment can  be ;  because,  all  the  authority  he  has, 
is  fairly  earned  upon  his  side,  and  voluntarily  con- 
ceded upon  the  people's  side. 


CHAPTER    V. 

PASTORAL  VISITING. 

We  have  bad  occasion,  in  previous  chapters,  to 
remark  that  the  clergyman  bears  two  characters, 
and  sustains  two  difterent  relations.  He  is  an 
orator,  that  is,  one  whose  function  it  is  to  address 
public  assemblies.  The  relation  which  he  sustains 
to  society,  by  virtue  of  this  character,  is  public  and 
formal.  It  requires  the  regularly  constructed  ad- 
dress, the  sacred  time,  and  the  sacred  place.  It  calls 
for  the  sermon,  the  Sabbath,  and  the  sanctuary. 
In  this  capacity,  the  clergyman  is  the  minister  of  a 
public  instruction,  and  a  j^ublic  worship. 

But  this  is  not  the  whole  of  a  minister's  char- 
acter, and  these  are  not  all  his  functions.  He  is  a 
pastor,  that  is,  one  whose  duty  it  is  to  go  from 
house  to  house,  and  address  men  piivately,  and 
individually,  upon  the  subject  of  religion.  This 
kind  of  labor,  as  necessarily  forms  a  part  of  the 
ministerial  service,  as  preaching.  A  perfect  clergy- 
man, if  such  there  were,  would  combine  both  the 
oratorical  and  the  pastoral  character,  in  just  propor- 


390  PASTOKAL   TnEOLOGT. 

tions,  and  degrees.  The  clergyman  is  liable  to  be 
deficient  upon  one,  or  the  other,  side  of  this  double 
character.  He  is  a  better  preacher  than  he  is 
pastor,  or  else  a  better  pastor  than  he  is  preacher. 
It  should,  therefore,  be  the  aim  of  the  clergyman,  to 
perfect  himself  in  both  respects. 

It  is  an  error,  to  suppose  that  these  two  offices 
are  totally  independent  of  each  other,  and  that  the 
clergyman  can  secure  the  highest  eminence  in  one, 
by  neglecting  the  other.  Some  make  this  mistake. 
Supposing  themselves  to  be  better  fitted  by  nature, 
to  be  preachers  than  pastors,  or,  what  is  more  com- 
monly the  case,  having  more  inclination  to  address 
men  publicly  and  in  bodies,  than  privately  and 
individually,  they  devote  their  whole  time  and 
attention  to  sermonizing  and  eloquence,  with  the 
expectation  of  thereby  becoming  more  influential 
and  able  preachers.  They  are  mistaken  in  this 
course.  They  may,  indeed,  by  close  study,  make 
themselves  popular  preachers,  while  they  are  neg- 
lecting personal  intercourse  v/ith  their  hearers,  but 
they  would  make  powerful  preachers,  if  their  study 
and  composition  were  vivified  by  the  experience  of 
the  pastor.  If,  without  that  knowledge  of  men 
which  comes  from  dii'ect  intercourse  with  them,  in 
health  and  in  sickness,  in  prosperity  and  in  adversity, 
in  joy  and  in  sorrow,  they  are  able  to  construct  at- 
tractive sermons,  with  that  knowledge  interpenetra- 
ting their  reading  and  rhetoric,  they  might  compose 
discourses  of  eminent  or  pre-eminent  excellence.  On 


PASTOEAL   VISITING.  391 

the  other  Land,  it  sometimes  occurs  tliat  the  clergy  - 
man,  being  naturally  of  a  social  turn,  and  finding 
it  easier  to  converse  with  individuals  than  to  address 
an  audience,  tui'ns  the  main  current  of  his  activity 
into  the  channel  of  pastoral  work,  to  the  neglect  of 
his  pulpit  ministrations.  In  this  instance,  the  same 
remark  holds  true,  as  above.  Even  if,  by  this 
course,  he  should  succeed  in  becoming  a  measurably 
useful  pastor  (a  thing  not  very  likely  to  occur),  by 
a  different  course  in  respect  to  sermonizing,  he  would 
become  a  highly  useful  one.  The  degree  of  success, 
in  both  instances,  is  much  increased,  by  cultivating 
a  complete  clerical  talent.  The  learning  and  study 
of  the  preacher,  are  needed  to  enlighten  and  guide 
the  zeal  and  earnestness  of  the  pastor;  and  the 
vitality  and  directness  of  the  pastor,  are  needed  to 
animate  and  enforce  the  culture  of  the  preacher. 
Instead,  therefore,  of  regarding  the  functions  of 
the  preacher  and  the  pastor,  as  totally  independent 
of  each  other,  and  capable  of  being  carried  to  per- 
fection, each  by  itself,  the  clergyman  must  perform 
them  both,  and  with  equal  fidelity.  And  as  he 
must,  from  the  nature  of  the  case,  exert  his  chief 
influence  as  a  pastor,  l)y  pastoral  visiting,  we  proceed 
to  lay  down  some  rules  for  the  performance  of  this 
part  of  clerical  service. 

1.  First,  the  clergyman  should  be  systematic, 
in  pastoral  visiting,  regularly  performing  a  certain 
amount  of  this  labor  every  Aveek.  There  will  be 
extraordinary  seasons,  when  he  must  visit  his  people 


392  PA5T0EAL   THEOLOGY. 

for  personal  religious  conversation,  with  greater  fre- 
quency. Times  of  nnusual  religious  interest  will 
comj^el  Mm  to  abridge  his  hours  of  study,  and  go 
from  house  to  house,  that  he  may  guide  the  inqui- 
ring, or  awaken  the  slumbering.  We  are  not  giv- 
ing a  rule  for  such  extraordinary  occasions,  and  we 
need  not,  for  they  will  bring  their  own  rule  with 
them.  But,  in  the  ordinary  state  of  religion  among 
his  congregation,  the  minister  ought  to  accomplish 
a  certain  amount  of  this  parochial  work,  in  each 
week,  not  much  exceeding  or  falling  short  of  it. 

There  are  two  advantages,  in  this  systematic 
regulation.  In  the  first  place,  if  the  pastor  is  more 
inclined  to  address  men  individually,  and  in  social 
intercourse,  than  he  is  to  address  them  collectively, 
and  in  the  regularly  constructed  sermon,  this  fixed- 
ness of  the  amount  of  pastoral  visiting  will  prevent 
him  from  neglecting  his  sermons.  Having  performed 
the  labor  in  the  homes  of  the  people,  he  will  re- 
turn to  his  study  and  his  books.  In  the  second 
place,  if  his  tendency  is  in  the  opj)osite  direction, 
he  will  be  very  much  helped,  by  systematizing  that 
part  of  clerical  duty  to  which  he  is  most  disinclined. 
There  is  no  way  so  sure,  to  overcome  the  indis]30si- 
tion  of  a  reserved,  or  a  studious  man  towards  direct 
personal  conversation  with  individuals,  as  working 
according  to  a  plan.  He  may  enter  upon  the  dis- 
charge of  the  unwelcome  service,  from  a  sense  of 
duty,  but,  before  long,  he  begins  to  work  with 
spontaneity  and  enjoyment.    There  is  no  fact  in  the 


PASTOEAL   VISITDTG.  393 

Christian  exj^erience  "better  establisliecl,  than  that 
the  faithful  performance  of  Labor,  from  conscience, 
ends  in  its  being  performed  mth  relish  and  pleasui'e. 
Conscience  is  finally  TVTOught  into  the  will,  in  a  vital 
synthesis.  Law,  in  the  end,  becomes  an  impulse, 
instead  of  a  commandment. 

In  systematizing  this  part  of  his  work,  the  cler- 
gyman should  fix  a  day  for  its  performance.  Let 
it  uniformly  be  done  on  the  same  day  of  the  week, 
and  in  the  same  part  of  the  day.  Again,  he  should 
pass  around  his  entire  parish  within  a  certain  time. 
This  will  make  it  necessary  to  visit  his  people  by 
districts,  or  neighborhoods ;  and,  unless  there  be  a 
special  reason  for  it,  he  should  not  visit  in  the  same 
locality  again,  until  he  has  come  round  to  it  in  his 
full  circuit.  This  course  will  compel  the  parishion- 
er, should  there  be  need  of  a  special  visit,  as  in  case 
of  sickness,  religious  anxiety,  or  affliction,  to  send 
for  him,  in  obedience  to  the  apostolic  direction,  "  Is 
any  sick  among  you,  let  him  call  for  the  elders  of 
the  church." 

In  regard  to  the  day  of  the  week,  to  be  selected 
by  the  pastor,  for  this  work,  the  nearer  it  is  to  the 
middle  of  it,  the  better.  This  is  the  time  when  his 
own  physical  strength  is  most  recruited,  from  the 
labors  of  the  Sabbath,  and  when  he  will  be  most 
inclined  to  leave  his  study,  to  mingle  with  his  peo- 
ple. It  is,  also,  the  time  when  the  congregation 
most  need  to  have  their  attention  recalled  to  spiritu- 
alities,  as   the   mid-point  between   two  Sabbaths. 


394  PASTORAL   THEOLOGY. 

Witli  regard  to  tlie  lengtli  of  time  to  "be  spent, 
mucli  depends  upon  tlie  extent  of  the  parish,  and 
the  number  of  the  people.  In  a  parish,  of  ordinary 
size,  one  afternoon  every  week,  especially  if  the 
evening  ensuing  be  devoted  to  preaching  in  the 
district  or  neighborhood,  is  sufficient, — provided, 
the  pastor  makes  his  visits  in  the  manner  which  we 
skall  describe  under  another  head.  This  may  seem 
a  sliort  time  to  devote  to  parochial  visiting;  but,  if 
it  be  systematically  and  regularly  devoted,  it  is 
longer  than  it  looks.  As,  in  a  previous  chaptei',  we 
remarked  that  even  five  hours  of  severe,  close  study, 
will  accomplish  a  great  deal  in  the  way  of  intel- 
lectual culture  and  sermonizing,  in  the  course  of 
years,  so  we  shall  find  that  a  half-day  in  each  week, 
will  accomplish  much  in  the  way  of  parochial  labor, 
in  the  lapse  of  time.  The  clergyman,  like  every 
other  man,  needs  to  pay  special  attention  to  the 
particulars,  of  system,  and  uniformity,  in  action. 
Small  spaces  of  time  become  am|)le  and  great,  by 
being  regularly  and  faithfully  em^^loyed.  It  is 
because  time  is  wasted  so  regularly  and  uniformly, 
and  not  because  it  is  wasted  in  such  large  amounts 
at  once,  that  so  much  of  human  life  runs  to  v»^aste. 
Every  one  is  familiar  with  the  story  of  the  author 
who  composed  a  voluminous  work,  in  the  course  of 
his  life,  by  merely  devoting  to  it  the  five  or  ten 
minutes,  which  he  found  he  must  imiformly  wait 
for  his  dinner,  after  having  been  called. 

Besides  these  advantages  upon  the  side  of  the 


PASTOEAL   VISITING.  395 

c;iergyman,  in  systematic  visiting,  there  are  others 
upon  the  side  of  the  congregation.  They  will  be 
pleased  with  their  pastor's  business-like  method. 
They  will  copy  his  example,  and  become  a  more 
punctual  and.  systematic  people,  both  secularly  and 
religiously.  They  will  notice  that  their  pastor  is  a 
man  who  lays  out  his  work,  and,  what  is  more, 
does  it,  and,  what  is  still  more,  does  it  thoroughly. 
They  will  respect  him  for  it.  They  will  not  crowd 
him,  and  urge  him,  as  they  will  a  minister  who  has 
no  system,  and  who  is  therefore  always  lagging  in  his 
work.  They  will  not  volunteer  advice  to  him,  for 
they  will  perceive  that  he  does  not  need  any.  And, 
if  a  parishioner,  with  more  self-confidence  than  self- 
knowledge,  should  take  the  clergyman  to  task,  and 
suggest  that  more  pastoral  visits  would  be  accept- 
able, or  that  fewer  would  suffice,  the  systematic 
pastor  can  say  to  him,  "  The  work  is  laid  out  for 
the  year;  the  campaign  is  begun,  and  going  on." 

Again,  by  this  method,  the  clergyman  Vv^ill  avoid 
all  appearance  of  partiality.  One  prolific  source  of 
difficulty  between  pastor  and  people,  in  this  age 
and  country,  lies  in  the  suspiciousness  of  a  portion 
of  tlie  people.  All  men  are  free  and  equal,  but 
some  are  more  tormented  by  the  consciousness,  than 
others.  This  part  of  society  are  afraid  that  their 
mei'its  are  not  sufficiently  recognized,  and  are  con- 
stantly watching  to  see  if  others  are  not  esteemed 
more  highly  than  themselves.  A  true  republican 
feeling  is  dignified  and  unsuspicious;  but  vulgar 


896  PASTOEAL   THEOLOGY. 

democracy  impliedly  acknowledges  its  desert  of 
neglect,  by  continually  apprehending  that  it  is  neg- 
lected. This  spirit  leads  to  rivalries  and  jealousies 
among  a  people,  and  the  pastor  needs  great  tact  and 
judgment  in  managing  it.  There  is  no  better  way 
of  dealing  with  this  temper,  if  it  exists,  than  to 
visit  a  parish  systematically.  Each  family  then 
takes  its  turn.  No  person  is  neglected,  and  no  per- 
son can  claim  more  than  the  pre-arranged  and  pre- 
determined amount  of  attention,  except  for  special 
reasons.  The  pastor,  upon  this  plan,  moves  around 
among  his  whole  people,  a  faithful,  systematic,  and 
impartial  man.  He  is  no  respecter  of  persons.  He 
goes  to  converse  with  the  members  of  his  flock, 
upon  the  concerns  of  their  soul,  each  in  his  turn. 
He  sees  no  difference  between  them,  except  moral 
and  spiritual  difference.  If  he  takes  a  deeper  inter- 
est, for  the  time  being,  in  one  of  his  parishioners, 
than  he  does  in  the  rest  of  them,  it  is  only  because 
the  one  sinner  that  repents  causes  more  joy,  than 
the  ninety  and  nine  just  persons  which  need  no  re- 
pentance. The  spiritual  condition  of  this  j^erson 
distinguishes  him  from  the  thoughtless  and  indiffer- 
ent mass,  and  the  pastor  would  rejoice,  if  his  whole 
parish  might  become  an  object  of  equally  distin- 
guished attention,  for  the  same  reason. 

2.  Secondly,  the  clergyman  should  visit  his  con- 
gregation ^professionally.  The  term  is  employed 
here,  in  its  technical  signification.  When  he  per- 
forms strictly  parochial  labor,  let  him  visit   as  a 


PASTORAL   VISITLNG.  397 

clergyman,  and  go  into  a  liouse  upon  a  purely  and 
wholly  religious  errand.  Mucli  time  is  wasted  by 
tlie  j^astor,  in  merely  secular,  social  intercourse,  even 
when  going  tlie  rounds  of  liis  parish.  Ostensibly, 
he  is  about  the  business  of  his  profession,  the  care 
of  souls;  but  really, he  is  merely  acting  the  part  of 
a  courteous  and  polite  gentleman.  Even  if  he  gives 
the  subject  of  religion  some  attention,  it  is  only  at 
the  close  of  his  interview,  after  secular  topics  have 
been  discussed.  It  may  be,  that  he  shrinks  from  a 
direct  address  to  an  individual,  upon  the  concerns  of 
his  soul,  and  therefore,  as  he  thinks,  prepares  the 
way,  that  he  may  broach  the  difficult  subject  indi- 
rectly. He  enters  into  a  general  and  miscellaneous 
conversation,  and  if  he  comes  to  the  subject  of  reli- 
gion at  all,  it  is  only  late,  and  after  the  energy  and 
briskness  of  the  conversation  have  flagged.  More- 
over, the  person  to  be  addressed,  is  quick  to  detect 
this  shrinking  upon  the  part  of  his  pastor,  and,  if 
really  unwilling  to  be  spoken  to  upon  the  subject 
of  religion,  will  adroitly  lead  the  conversation  away 
into  other  directions.  The  man  who  is  averse  to 
religious  conversation,  and  who,  therefore,  specially 
needs  to  be  directly  and  plainly  addi'essed,  is  the 
last  person  to  be  sm'prised  into  such  a  conversation. 
His  eyes  are  wide  open,  and  the  only  true  way  for 
the  pastor,  when  the  proper  time  for  it  has  come, 
and  the  pastoral  visit  is  made,  is  to  look  him  in  the 
eye,  and  speak  directly  and  affectionately  upon  the 
most  momentous  of  all  subjects. 


398  PASTORAL   THEOLOGY. 

Tliat  lie  may  visit  in  tliis  professional  manner, 
the  j)astor  sliould  have  an  nnderstanding,  to  this 
efiect,  with  his  people.  In  the  very  opening  of  his 
ministry,  let  him  preach  a  sermon  ujoon  the  subject 
of  parochial  labor,  explaining  the  nature  and  pur- 
pose of  this  j)art  of  the  clergyman's  duty,  and  pre- 
paring the  minds  of  his  people,  for  a  strictly  profes- 
sional performance  of  it.  Then,  they  will  exj^ect 
nothing  but  religious  conversation,  when  a  pastoral 
visit  is  made,  and  will  be  ready  for  it.  Apj)recia- 
ting  the  fidelity  of  their  minister,  they,  will  be  at 
pains  to  meet  him  at  their  homes.  \  A  clergyman 
who  is  thus  systematic  and  faithful,  soon  accustoms 
his  congregation  to  his  own  good  way  of  j^erform- 
ing  duty,  so  that  they  not  only  adjust  themselves  to 
his  exact  and  thorouajh  methods,  but  come  to  like 
them.  ^ 

This  is  by  far  the  most  successful  mode  of  reach- 
ins^  the  individual  conscience,  in  direct  relii^ious 
conversation.  "We  have  already  alluded  to  the  fact, 
that  the  endeavor  to  introduce  the  subject  of  reli- 
gion indirectly,  and  imperceptibly,  commonly  fails, 
because  of  the  adroitness  of  the  unwilling  person 
addressed.  He  is  quick  to  detect  the  shrinking  of 
the  clergyman,  from  the  performance  of  the  most 
difficult  j)art  of  ministerial  duty,  and  though  it 
may,  or  may  not,  result  fi'om  a  sensitive  nature,  he 
is  very  apt  to  impute  it  to  a  false  shame.  The  con- 
sequence is,  that  the  clergyman  loses  much  of  his 
weight  of  authority  and  influence,  in  the  eyes  of  the 


PASTOEAL   VISITING.  399 

parishioner,  and  never  gains  the  ascendency  over 
him,  to  which  he  is  entitled  by  his  profession  and 
calling,  because  lie  does  not  act  up  to  its  privileges 
and_pi:erogatives. 

When,  therefore,  a  parochial  call  is  made,  let  the 
pastor  plunge  in  medias  sacras  res.  Let  him  not 
atttempt  to  bridge  over  the  chasm  between  seculari- 
ties  and  spiritualities,  but  let  him  leap  over.  ^  He 
lias  a  right  to  do  so,  because  it  is  understood  be- 
tween the  parties,  what  particular  subject  it  is  that 
has  brought  him  into  the  household.  He  courteously 
concedes  a  few  words  to  ordinary  interests,  but 
when  this  concession  is  made,  he  proceeds  to  the 
proper  business  of  the  occasion.  This  method 
brings  the  subject  of  the  soul,  and  its  needs,  before 
the  mind  of  a  parishioner,  with  a  formal  authority, 
that  causes  him  to  realize  that  it  is  no  merely 
passing  and  secondaiy  topic.  The  clergyman  does 
not  admit  that  religion  may  be  introduced  side-wise, 
to  his  attention.  He  has  come  upon  purpose,  to 
direct  his  thoughts  to  this  great  concern.  And  this 
method  relieves  both  parties  from  embarrassment,  or 
constraint.  For,  the  parishioner  is  entirely  free  in  the 
matter.  He  is  not  compelled  to  be  a  party  to  the 
arrangement  which  brings  the  clergyman  upon  a 
purely  religious  errand,  to  himself,  and  to  his  house- 
hold. But  if  he  does  voluntarily  admit  him  to 
personal  conversation,  in  the  capacity  of  a  spiritual 
adviser,  then  he  is  obligated  to  let  him  do  his  work 
fiiithfully,  and  well.     And  even  the  worldly  man  is 


400  PASTOEAL   THEOLOGY. 

better  pleased  with  this  thorough  professional  deal- 
ing, than  might  be  supposed  at  first  sight.  Even 
if,  owing  to  the  hardness  of  the  heart  and  the  in- 
tensity of  the  worldliness,  the  pastor  makes  no 
other  impression,  he  will  show,  beyond  dis23ute,  that 
he  is  an  earnest  and  sincere  watcher  for  souls,  and 
fisher  of  men.  The  parishioner  will  say  to  himself: 
"  My  pastor  understands  his  work,  and  performs  it 
with  fidelity ;  it  will  not  be  his  fault,  if  I  continue 
irreligious."  It  is  certain,  that  this  sj^iritual  ear- 
nestness and  love  for  the  human  soul,  w^hen  thus 
organized  into  a  regular  plan  of  operations,  and 
systematized  into  regular  uniformity,  will  produce 
results.  Thoughtless  men,  finding  their  pastor  upon 
their  trail,  coming  into  their  families,  and  to  them- 
selves personally,  with  a  plain  and  affectionate  ad- 
dress upon  the  subject  of  religion,  and  nothing  else, 
once  in  every  year  or  half  year,  will  begin  to  think 
of  what  it  all  means.  They  will  find  themselves  in 
a  net-work.  They  will  see  that  they  are  caught  in  a 
process.  Their  pastor  has  laid  out  his  work  ahead, 
for  many  long  years,  and,  if  he  lives,  and  they  live, 
they  know  that  the  regular  motion  of  the  globe 
will  bring  him  around  to  them,  once  in  so  often. 
They  will  come  to  some  conclusion.  They  will 
either  submit,  and  subject  themselves  to  these  uni- 
form and  j)ersistent  influences,  or  else  they  will  get 
clear  of  them  altogether.  In  ninety-nine  cases  out 
of  a  hundred,  they  will  do  the  former  thing,  and 
thus  the  pastor  will  be  instrumental,  by  his  deter- 


PASTORAL   VISITIITG.  401 

mined  parochial  fidelity,  in  bringing  into  the  church, 
a  great  number  who  would  otherwise  go  through 
life  almost  Christians,  and  die  unregenerate. 

We  have  advised  a  systematic  visitation  of  the 
parish,  by  districts  or  neighborhoods.  In  case  the 
clergyman  is  settled  among  an  agricultural  popula- 
tion, widely  scattered,  he  will  find  this  much  the 
easiest,  and  surest  way  to  communicate  with  the 
whole  body  of  his  people.  His  parish  is  his  dio' 
cese,  and  he  is  its  bishop.  Let  him  make  his 
visitations  throusfh  the  whole  lens-th  and  breadth 
of  it,  with  the  same  system  and  regularity,  with 
which  the  prelatical  bishop  makes  his  annual  visi- 
tation. The  pastor  should  also  imitate  the  method 
of  the  prelate,  in  another  res^^ect,  and  preach  in 
these  districts,  in  connection  with  his  pastoral  calls. 
If  he  is  settled  in  a  city  or  town,  where  the  main 
body  of  the  congregation  are  within  a  short 
distance  of  the  church  edifice,  his  public  discourses 
must  be  in  one  place.  But,  if  his  lot  has  been  cast 
among  an  agricultural  people,  who  are*  scattered 
(and  this  is  the  kind  of  pai'ish,  in  which  the  major- 
ity of  clergymen  are  appointed  to  labor),  he  should 
preach  a  free,  extemporaneous  discourse,  in  the 
evening  of  the  day  of  his  visitation.  Having  gone 
from  house  to  house,  m  the  manner  that  has  been 
described,  let  him  wind  up  the  earnest  work  of 
pastoral  visiting,  for  the  week,  with  a  plain  and 
glowing  address  to  the  families  Df  the  district,  as- 
sembled at  an  appointed  place.  He  will  find  it  a 
2G 


402  PASTOEAL   THEOLOGY. 

most  genial  and  exhilarating  service,  upon  his  own 
part,  and  a  most  interesting  and  profitable  one,  upon 
the  part  of  the  people.  Enforcing,  in  a  common 
assemblage,  all  that  he  has  said  in  the  families,  and 
to  the  individuals,  he  will  clinch  the  nails  which  he 
has  been  driving. 

Pastoral  visiting,  conducted  in  the  manner  de- 
scribed, is  a  very  efficient  aid  to  the  public  preach- 
ing of  the  Sabbath  and  the  sanctuaiy.  The  j)aro- 
chial  call,  combined  with  the  free,  extemporaneous 
lecture,  corroborates  the  sermon.  The  pastor  of  this 
true  stamp  is  the  complement  of  the  preacher.  He 
supplies,  and  fills  out,  what  is  lacking,  in  the  strictly 
j)ublic  character  and  functions  of  the  sacred  orator. 
Having,  upon  the  Sabbath,  and  in  the  Christian 
temple,  logically  and  elaborately  enunciated  the 
principles  of  the  oracles  of  God,  he  comes  down 
from  the  pulpit,  and  on  the  week  day  goes  into  the 
private  house,  and  applies  the  truth  to  the  indi- 
vidual. The  clergyman,  is  in  this  way,  a  complete 
man,  and  does  a  complete  work.  He  is  both  a 
preacher  and  a  pastor. 

If  there  were  space,  it  would  be  natural,  here,  to 
enlarge  upon  the  reciprocal  relations  and  influences 
of  these  two  clerical  functions,  particularly  with 
reference  to  sermonizing.  It  is  obvious,  that  such  a 
regular,  and  systematic  intercourse  with  his  congre- 
gation, ^vill  fill  the  mind  of  the  clergyman  with  sub- 
jects for  sermons,  with  plans,  and  methods  of  treat- 
ing them,  and  with  trains  of  reflection.     Nothing 


PASTORAL   VISITING.  403 

80  kindles  and  enriches  the  orator's  mind,  as  living 
intercourse  with  individual  persons.  A  j^reacher 
who  is  in  the  habit  of  conversino;  with  all  trades  of 
society,  and  becomes  acquainted  with  the  great  va- 
rieties in  the  Christian  experience,  and  the  sinful 
experience,  will  be  an  exuberant  and  overflowing 
sermonizer.  Full  of  matter,  and  full  of  animation, 
he  will  vitalize  every  subject  he  discusses,  no  mat- 
ter how  trite  it  may  have  become  in  the  minds  of 
others.  Passing  through  the  parched  valley  of 
Baca,  he  will  make  it  a  well.  He  will  rain  upon 
the  driest  tract,  and  the  rain  will  fill  the  pools. 

The  systematic,  and  professional  manner  of  visit- 
ins:  his  cono-re^-ation  recommends  itself  to  the  cler- 
gyman,  upon  the  ground  of  its  great  practical 
usefulness.  It  is  a  very  sure  means  of  producing 
conversions  and  revivals.  So  far  as  human  agency 
is  concerned,  it  seems  to  be  the  divinely  aj^pointed 
method,  of  bringing  the  experience  of  individuals  to 
that  crisis  which  results  in  actual  conversion.  The 
public  preaching  of  the  Sabbath  and  the  sanctuary 
is  formal,  logical,  and  oratorical.  It  ought  to  be  so. 
Its  general  purj^ose,  like  that  of  all  eloquence,  is  to 
instruct  the  mind,  with  a  view  to  move  the  affec- 
tions, and  actuate  the  will.  But,  this  pi'actical  effect 
of  sacred  eloquence  does  not,  commonly,  occur  imme- 
diately, and  at  the  close  of  the  discourse.  It  is  in- 
deed true,  that  the  sermon  is  sometimes  instrumen- 
tal in  conversion,  upon  the  spot,  in  the  house  of 
God.     But  this  is  a  rare  case.     While  the  secular 


404  PASTORAL  THEOLOGY. 

creator,  tlie  juri.st,  or  tlie  statesman,  sees  tlie  effect  of 
his  eloquence  in  the  verdict  or  the  vote  given  im- 
mediately, the  sacred  orator  does  not  ordinarily  see 
the  practical  effect  of  his  eloquence,  until  after  many 
days,  it  may  be  months  or  years.  Hence,  the  need 
of  following  up  the  sermon  with  the  pastoral  visit. 
Hence,  the  pastor  must  tread  close  upon  the  heels 
of  the  preacher. 

Preaching  upon  the  Sabbath,  if  it  is  plain  and 
powerful,  produces  an  impression,  which,  if  it  could 
only  be  j)erpetuated,  would  result  in  a  change  of 
character  and  conduct.  But,  occurring  at  intervals 
of  a  week,  the  effect  of  sermons  is  too  often  evanes- 
cent, unless  it  is  seconded  by  other  agencies.  Hence, 
the  disposition,  in  some  periods  and  localities,  to 
protracted  sermonizing,  to  a  series  of  public  ad- 
dresses to  the  popular  mind, — a  method  which,  if 
judiciously  employed  by  the  pastor,  aided  by  his 
ministerial  brethren  rather  than  by  an  evangelist, 
is  often  productive  of  great  and  good  results.  With- 
out in  the  least  disparaging  this  mode  of  promoting 
conversions  and  revivals,  and  believino;  that  it  is 
perfectly  legitimate  and  safe  to  employ  it,  whenever 
the  craving  for  additional  preaching,  upon  the  part 
of  the  people,  renders  it  necessary,  we  yet  insist,  that 
systematic  pastoral  visiting  is  the  pnncipal  means 
to  !)e  relied  upon,  by  the  ministry,  in  order  to  bring 
individual  men  to  a  crisis,  and  a  decision.  When- 
ever it  has  been  faithfully  employed,  this  part  of  the 
clergyman's  service  has  been  rich  in  fruits;   and  it 


PASTORAL  YisirrjfG.  405 

is  an  evil  day  for  tlie  Cliurch,  when  it  is  neglected, 
and  more  public  and  mecLanical  means  are  adopted 
in  the  place  of  it.  Addressing  parishioners  in  per- 
son, inquiring  into  their  state  of  mind,  telling  them 
plainly  and  affectionately  what  their  prospects  for 
eternity  really  are,  and  what  they  need  in  order  to 
salvation,  entreating  them  not  to  stifle  convictions, 
urging  home  the  truths  that  have  impressed  them 
npon  the  Sabbath, — doing  this  work,  is  the  surest 
way  to  bring  matters  to  an  issue,  with  the  impeni- 
tent. If  the  clergyman  would  see  ^vhat  may  be 
accomplished  by  pastoral  work,  let  him  read  Bax- 
ter's account  of  his  labors  at  Kidderminster.  Few 
ministers  have  so  laro-e  a  charsie  as  he  had,  and  few 
are  called  to  do  so  much  of  this  service.  But  the 
same  proportionate  laboriousness  will  produce  the 
same  proportionate  results.  When  Baxter  first  went 
to  Kidderminster,  he  says,  "there  was  about  one 
family  in  a  street  that  worshipped  God,  and  called 
on  his  name ;  and  when  he  came  awa}^,  there  were 
some  streets,  where  there  Avas  not  more  than  one 
fomily  on  the  side  of  a  street  that  did  not  do  so, 
and  that  did  not,  in  j^rofessing  serious  godliness, 
give  him  hopes  of  their  sincerity."  From  his  own 
account,  tliis  was,  in  a  great  measure,  the  conse- 
quence of  following  his  people  to  their  homes,  and 
there  enforcini]r  the  lessons  of  the  Sabbath  and  the 
sanctuary,  catechising  the  families,  and  conversing 
with  individuals.  The  pastor  can  do  nothing  more 
serviceable  to  liis  own  ministerial  power,  and  influ- 


406  PASTOEAL   THEOLOGY. 

ence,  tliau  to  study  that  account  wliicli  Baxter  gives 
of  liis  labors  as  a  pastor/  to  set  uj)  Baxter's  zeal 
and  earnestness  as  a  model,  to  adjust  Baxter's  plan 
and  method  of  operations  to  the  state  of  modern 
society,  and  then  to  make  full  proof  of  this  part 
of  his  ministry. 

*  Compare,  also,  the. very  in-    gow.    Hanna:  Life  of  Chalmers, 
teresting  narrative  given  of  Chal-    Vol.  II.,.  ch.  vi. 
mers's  parochial  work,  at  Glas- 


CHAPTER    VI. 

CATECHISING. 

The  catechising  of  the  children  and  youth  in  a 
congregation,  is  a  theme  that  deserves  to  be  dis- 
cussed with  the  comjDrehensiveness,  and  precision, 
of  a  systematic  treatise.  In  the  whole  range  of 
topics  in  Pastoral  Theology,  there  is  not  one,  that 
has  stronger  claims  upon  the  attention  of  the  clergy- 
man, than  the  doctrinal  instruction  of  the  rising  gen- 
eration. Within  the  the  half  century,  catechising 
has  fallen  greatly  into  disuse.  Creeds  themselves 
have  been  more  undervalued,  than,  in  some  periods, 
they  have  been  over-estimated.  The  consequence 
is,  that  the  experience  of  the  Church  has  outrun  its 
knowledge.  There  are  many,  undoubtedly  experi- 
mental Christians,  who  are  unable  to  define  the 
truths  of  Christianity,  either  singly,  or  in  their  con- 
nections in  the  system.  They  feel  more  than  they 
reflect,  and  more  than  they  can  state.  There  is 
dan^j-er  in  this  state  of  thinccs.  The  Church  cannot 
advance,  it  cannot  even  maintain  itself  upon  its 
present   position,  by  this   theory  and   methoa   of 


408  PASTOEAL   THEOLOGY. 

religious  culture.  Ex2:)erimeiital  religion,  without 
doctrinal  knowledge,  must  deteriorate.  Religious 
feeling  will  become  more  superficial,  religious  zeal 
more  insincere,  and  relic;]  ous  action  more  fitful  and 
selfish,  if  the  mind  of  the  Church  is  not  obtaining 
clear  and  self-consistent  conceptions  of  religious 
truth.  A  dead  orthodoxy  is  an  evil ;  and,  so  is  an 
ignorant  pietism.  But  there  is  no  necessity  for 
either.  Feeling  and  cognition  are  not  antagonistic, 
but  exist  together  in  the  most  perfect  Being.  And 
only  as  they  co-exist  in  the  renewed  mind,  is  there 
the  highest  type  of  Christian  life.  Without,  ho^ 
ever,  dwelling  upon  this  part  of  the  subjeqi/^,  we 
proceed  to  recommend  the  practice  of  catechising 
children  and  youth,  by  considering  its  influence, 
first,  upon  the  clergyman  himself,  and,  secondly, 
upon  ilnQ  peojyle.^. 

1.  The  habit  of  imparting  catechetical  instruc- 
tion, developes  the  power  of  lucid  and  precise  state- 
ment. The  clergyman's  theological  knowledge  is 
liable  to  be  imperfect,  in  resj^ect  to  the  subtler  and 
sharper  distinctions  in  the  Christian  system.  He 
apprehends  the  doctrines  in  their  general  scope  and 
drift,  but  does  not  draw  that  thin  hau'-line  which 
marks  them  off  from  each  other.  Some  very  bitter 
controversies  have  arisen  from  the  fact,  that  the  one 
party  distinguished  interior  differences,  used  lan- 
guage with  scientific  exactness,  and  stuck  to  terms, 
while  the  other  party  recognized  no  differences  but 
external  and  obvious  ones,  and  employed  a  loose 


CATEcmsrN'G.  409 

phraseology,  and  even  this  with  no  rigorous  uni- 
formity. 

There  is  something  in  the  endeavor  to  convey 
doctrinal  instruction  to  the  human  mind,  esjoecially 
when  it  is  in  the  forming  period,  that  is  highly 
adapted  to  promote  discrimination  and  clearness. 
The  catechising  pastor  does  not,  that  is,  he  should 
not,  confine  himself  to  merely  putting  the  questions 
and  hearino;  the  answers.  After  the  work  of  reci- 
ting  is  through,  he  then  explains  to  the  body  of 
youth  gathered  before  him,  the  meaning  of  the 
phraseology  they  have  learned,  and  of  the  truths 
they  have  committed  to  memoiy.  To  do  this  well, 
and  plainly,  so  that  children  and  youth  may  under- 
stand, will  draw  upon  the  clergyman's  nicest  dis- 
crimination, the  choicest  portion  of  his  vocabulary, 
and  his  most  pertinent  illustrations.  It  is  often 
asserted,  that  it  is  impossible  for  children  to  under- 
stand the  creed, — that  the  doctrines  of  justification, 
sanctification,  and  election,  are  too  strong  meat 
for  babes.  The  difficulty  lies  rather  in  the  teacher, 
than  in  the  capacity  of  the  pupil,  or  in  the  in- 
trinsic nature  of  the  doctrine.  lie  has  only  a 
vague  and  general  apprehension  of  revealed  truth, 
and  has  never  trained  himself  to  make  luminous 
and  exact  statements  of  it.  Any  clergyman  who 
is  master  of  Christian  theology,  and  ■who  thor- 
oughly understands  the  creed  and  catechism,  will 
])e  able  to  make  the  youth  of  his  congregation 
understand   it   also,   as   others   have    done   before 


410  PASTOEAL   THEOLOGY. 

liim.  And  this  endeavor  will  bring  out  into  clear 
and  definite  forms  of  statement,  those  great  ideas 
and  truths  of  Christianity,  which  lie  large  but 
vague  in  too  many  minds.  That  clergyman  who  is 
in  the  habit  of  catechising,  will  know  exactly  what 
his  own  creed  is,  and  can  phrase  it  in  language  and 
illustrations  intelligible  to  children  and  youth. 

2.  A  second  effect  of  catechising  upon  the 
clergyman  is,  to  render  his  views  in  theology  de- 
cided. The  importance  of  decision  in  theological 
opinions  was  remarked  upon  in  a  previous  chaj)ter, 
and  it  was  affirmed  that  the  study  of  creeds  is  one 
of  the  best  means  of  acquiring  it.  He  who  is  able 
to  adopt  a  creed  cordially,  because  he  perceives  and 
feels  its  intrinsic  truthfulness,  will  be  a  positive 
man.  It  is  plain,  therefore,  that  all  this  work  of 
teaching  a  creed,  tends  to  determination  and  firm- 
ness of  theological  character.  Catechising  is,  in 
reality,  the  intensely  practical  study  of  systematic, 
theology,  in  the  endeavor  to  transmute  the  dogmas 
of  religion  into  the  thoughts  and  feelings  of  the 
youthful  mind.  As  man  becomes  a  little  child,  in 
order  to  enter  the  kingdom  of  truth,  so,  in  this  pro- 
cess, the  kingdom  of  truth  becomes  a  little  child. 
The  creed  is  incarnated  in  the  little  children. 
"While  imparting  this  catechetical  instruction,  there- 
fore, the  clergyman  becomes  more  profoundly 
certain  of  the  truth  of  Christianity.  He  finds  it 
more  and  more  impossible  to  doubt  it.  He  grows 
more  and  more  positive  in  his  views  and  affirma- 


cATECHisma.  411 

tions,  and  gradually  acquires  that  Scriptural  bold- 
ness whicli  causes  him  to  speak  with  authority. 
Finding  a  response  to  the  Evangelical  system,  in  the 
heart  and  mind  of  childhood  and  youth,  and  hear- 
ing the  testimony  of  the  most  sincere  and  unso- 
phisticated period  of  human  life  respecting  it, 
the  catechising  clergyman  matures  into  the  most 
imdoubting  and  impregnable  of  men. 

3.  A  third  effect  of  catechising,  upon  the  clergy- 
man, is  to  assure  him  of  the  harmony  of  revelation 
and  reason.  It  may  at  first  sight  seem  strange,  to 
recommend  the  doctrinal  instruction  of  children  and 
youth,  as  a  means  of  attaining  to  the  true  philosophy 
of  religion.  Nothing  is  more  common,  in  the  skeptic, 
than  to  speak  of  the  creeds  of  the  Christian  Church, 
as  at  the  very  farthest  remove  from  rationality.  He 
is,  generally,  a  little  more  willing  to  allow  that  the 
Scriptures  are  reconcilable  with  reason,  than  that 
the  theological  system  which  an  Augustine,  or  a 
Calvin,  derived  from  them,  is.  But,  he  has  a  design 
in  this.  The  Calvinistic  creed  is  definite.  It  is 
impossible  to  make  it  teach  more  than  one  s}'stem. 
There  is  no  dispute,  except  among  disingenuous 
men,  in  respect  to  what  Calvinism  really  is.  The 
Bible,  on  the  other  hand,  is  not  a  creed  or  a  system, 
though  it  contains  one.  But  what  this  system  ac- 
tually is,  is  the  point  in  regard  to  which  Churches 
and  theologians  are  disputing;  and  hence,  the  skep- 
tic is  more  ready  to  concede  the  general  rationality 
of  the  Bible,  than  he  is  that  of  a  particular  system. 


412  PASTOEAL   THEOLOGY. 

like  tlie  Calvinistic,  for  example,  because  lie  can  im- 
mediately append  to  his  admission  respecting  the 
Scriptures,  the  qualifying  remark,  that  it  is  yet  an 
open  question  what  the  Scriptures  really  teach. 
This  addition  is  a  saving  clause  for  him,  and  his 
skej)tical  purposes.  It  has,  moreover,  passed  over 
into  the  religious  world,  in  the  form  of  a  feeling, 
and  hence,  we  sometimes  hear  good  men  disparaging 
the  creed,  even  the  creed  of  their  own  Church,  and 
advising,  in  a  controversy  with  the  infidel,  to  have 
as  little  as  possible  to  do  with  doctrinal  theology. 

There  never  was  a  greater  error  than  this.  For, 
what  is  a  creed,  but  a  generalization  from  the  Scrip- 
tures? The  "Westminster  symbol,  for  example,  is 
the  scientific  substance  of  Revelation,  in  the  view 
of  the  divines  of  the  Westminster  Assembly.  That 
assembly  was  composed  of  the  most  learned,  and 
reflecting  men,  of  the  Church  of  Christ  in  England, 
at  that  time.  It  embodied  the  philosophic  mind  of 
the  Church,  in  that  country,  and  century.  If  there 
was  no  scientific  talent  in  the  Westminster  As- 
sembly, then  there  was  none  in  England.  And  that 
assembly  aimed  to  give  to  the  churches  that  had 
called  them  together,  a  systematic  statement  of  the 
contents  of  Kevelation,  or,  in  other  words,  a  philo- 
soj)hical  exhibition  of  the  Scriptures,  in  a  creed.  It 
was  their  purpose,  to  present  the  fundamental  truths 
of  Christianity,  not  in  a  popular  oratorical  manner, 
but  in  a  self-consistent  and  compact  form,  that  should 
commend  itself  to  the  reason  and  judgment  of  man- 


CATECHISESTG.  413 

kind.  If,  therefore,  tliere  be  any  rationality  in  tlie 
Christian  religion,  any  philosophy  of  Christianity, 
it  is  most  natural  to  seek  for  it  in  the  carefully  con- 
structed symbol;  and  hence,  the  clergyman,  instead 
of  concedino;  to  the  infidel  that  the  catechism  is  in- 
defensible  at  the  bar  of  reason,  ought  to  refuse  the 
concession  instantaneously  and  always,  and  to  join 
issue  with  him,  and  try  the  point.  In  so  doing,  he 
will  certainly  have  one  advantage  which  we  have  al- 
ready hinted  at,  namely,  the  distinctness  and  definite- 
ness  of  the  creed ;  and  if  the  position  which  we  have 
taken  be  correct,  that  the  creed  is  the  philosophical 
analysis  of  the  contents  of  Kevelation,  by  the  philo- 
sophic mind  of  the  Church,  he  will  have  the  still 
fui'ther  advantage,  of  the  rationality  of  the  creed. 

Hence  we  affirm,  that  the  habit  of  studying 
the  catechism,  in  order  to  teach  it  to  youthful 
minds,  conduces  to  the  clergyman's  perception  of 
the  unity  of  reason  and  religion.^  The  longer 
he  studies  and  teaches  the  creed,  the  more  unas- 
sailable does  his  conviction  become,  of  its  abso- 
lute rationality.  He  finds  it  commending  itself 
to  the  frank  and  unsophisticated  reason  of  the 
young.  He  sees  the  ingenuous  mind  responding 
to  its  statements  concerning  God  and  man,  with 
that  artless  spontaneousness  which  is  the  strongest 

'It  isafact  of  history,  tliattho  knowledge  of  Christianity  to  the 

scientific  theology  of  the  Church  more  cultivated  catechumens,  at 

took  its  first  beginnings,  in  the  Alexandria,  Compare  Gl'eiucke: 

endeavor  to  impart  an  advanced  Church  History,  §  59. 


414  PASTORAL   THEOLOGY. 

of  evidences  for  the  truth.  "  It  is  the  most  beauti- 
ful mark  of  the  excellency  of  a  doctrine,"  says 
Herder,  "  that  it  instructs  a  child."  That  which  is 
welcomed  by  the  open,  unbiased  nature  of  child- 
hood, is  certainly  true.  For,  if  there  be  any  "pure 
reason,  as  Kant  phrases  it,  among  mankind,  it  is  in. 
children  and  youth.  During  this  period  in  human 
life,  reason  shows  itself  in  an  instinctive,  recipient 
and  docile  form,  and  responds  more  immediately  and 
unhesitatingly  to  the  voice  of  truth,  than  at  an 
after  period,  when  it  has  become  better  acquainted 
with  error,  and  more  or  less  sophisticated  and  blunt- 
ed by  it.  There  may  be  a  deeper  meaning  than 
appears  uj^on  the  face  of  our  Saviour's  words, 
"  Except  ye  receive  the  kingdom  of  heaven  as  little 
children,  ye  shall  not  enter  therein."  He  may  have 
also  taught  a  lesson  to  the  philosopher,  and  have 
meant  to  say,  in  addition  to  what  we  commonly 
understand  by  these  words,  "  Except  ye  open  your 
rational  nature  to  the  truth,  with  that  freedom  from 
prejudice  and  that  docile  recipiency  which  marks 
the  child,  ye  can  never  apprehend  it." 

1.  Passing  to  the  second  division  of  the  subject, 
namely,  the  influence  of  catechising  upon  the  con- 
gregation, we  remark,  in  the  first  place,  that  it  re- 
sults in  the  indoctrination  of  the  adults.  We  do 
not  now  refer  to  adults  who  were  once  the  children 
and  youth  of  a  j^astor's  charge,  but  to  such  as  have 
more  recently  come  under  a  clergyman's  ministry. 
In  a  long  pastorate,  the  adult  population  becomes 


CATECmSING.  415 

indoctrinated,  as  a  matter  of  course,  in  case  the  pas- 
tor begins  to  catecliise  at  the  opening  of  his  minis- 
try. But  besides  this,  the  practice  of  catechising 
tends  to  the  indirect  spread  of  doctrinal  knowledge, 
among  those  who  are  not  the  immediate  objects  of 
its  influence.  Uncatechised  parents  are  uncon- 
sciously affected  by  their  catechised  children.  Un- 
catechised adults,  imperceptibly,  learn  to  set  a  justei 
estimate  upon  the  systematic  doctrines  of  Chris- 
tianity, through  their  intercourse  with  catechised 
youth.  The  creed  of  the  Church  is  more  respected 
anions:  the  concrresfation,  in  case  it  is  tauirht  and 
explained  to  the  children  and  youth.  The  pastor 
who  is  faithful  in  the  performance  of  this  duty, 
will  see  adults  coming  into  the  catechetical  exercise, 
as  listeners.  Parents,  whose  early  religious  educa- 
tion was  neglected,  will  accompany  their  children, 
not  from  mere  curiosity,  but  from  a  desire  to  obtain 
a  knowledge  of  the  Word  of  God,  which  they  value 
in  their  children,  and  of  which  they  are  conscious 
of  being  too  destitute,  themselves.  In  these,  and 
other  ways,  doctrinal  knowledge  will  radiate  from 
the  class  of  catechumens,  into  the  whole  body  of 
an  adult  population  whose  catechetical  education 
was  neglected,  both  by  their  parents,  and  their 
minister. 

2.  Secondly,  catechising  the  youth  of  a  parish 
j)rotects  thejfl  against  infidelity  and  spurious  phi- 
losophy. "^  well-indoctrinated  person  can  state  the 
fundamental  truths  of  Christianity  in  exact  phrase- 


416  PASTORAL   THEOLOGY. 

ology,  can  specify  their  connections  in  a  system  and 
tlieir  relations  to  each,  otlier,  can  quote  tlie  texts  of 
Scripture  which  prove  them,  and,  in  proportion  as 
his  pastor  has  been  thorough  with  him  as  a  cate- 
chumen, can  maintain  and  defend  them  in  an  aro-u- 
ment  with  an  opposer,^.  One  thus  discij^lined  is 
pre-occupied,  fore-warned,  and  fore-armed.  The 
skeptic  cannot,  as  he  can  and  does  in  case  he  is  ar- 
guing mth  the  uninstructed,  mis-state  and  caricature 
the  truth.  T]ie  catechumen  will  set  him  right,  by 
citing  to  him  the  well-weighed  and  precise  j^hrase- 
ology  of  the  creed;  and  this  rectification  in  the 
outset,  of  an  incorrect  statement,  always  gravels  the 
infidel,  whether  his  mis-statement  originates  in  a 
real  or  a  pretended  ignorance.  A  well-trained 
youth,  in  a  contest  with  an  ordinary  skeptic,  soon 
ceases  to  act  upon  the  defensive.  The  unbeliever 
soon  discovers  that  he  is  dealing  with  a  mind  that 
knows  where  it  is,  and  what  it  is  about,  and  is  '^vil- 
ling  to  give  over  a  contest  which  he  began  not  from 
any  love  of  the  truth,  or  any  desire  of  finding  it, 
but  solely  from  a  mischievous,  and  really  malig- 
nant wish,  to  undermine  the  religious  belief  of  an 
ingenuous  youth. 

Again,  there  is  no  preservative  against  philoso- 
phy falsely  so  called,  so  effectual  as  a  doctrinal 
education.  The  youth,  and  especially  the  reading 
and  literary  youth,  of  a  congregation,  are  liable  to 
be  misled  by  s^iurious  science,  because  it  is  preten- 
tious  and  assuming.     They  have  not  yet  reached 


CATECHISING.  417 

"  tlie  years  whidi  bring  tlie  pliilosophic  mind," — to 
employ  the  phrase  of  "Wordswortli.  The  genuine 
philosophic  spirit  is  a  thing  of  slow  growth.  The 
truly  scientific  mind  adopts  its  philosophy,  which  is 
no  other  than  its  method  of  looking  at  things,  with 
great  circumspection,  judgment,  and  deliberation. 
The  immature  understanding  is  exposed  to  great 
mistakes,  in  the  formation  and  adoj^tion  of  opinions 
in  philosophy,  and  hence  the  great  influence  which 
a  showy,  pretentious,  and  utterly  unscientific  scheme 
sometimes  exerts  over  the  young  men  of  a  nation, 
or  an  age.  The  counterfeit  science  comes  up  before 
the  youthful  intellect,  like  Comus  to  the  lady,  with 
an  insolence  that  is  never  seen  in  genuine  philoso- 
phy, and  attempts  to  carry  it,  by  rudely  bearing 
down  upon  it.  It  is  both  confident  and  contemptu- 
ous in  its  tone,  and  too  often,  like  the  arrogant  and 
impudent  adventurer  in  general  society,  succeeds  in 
imposing  upon  the  unpractised  and  untaught. 

But  he  who  has  received,  from  the  mind  of  a 
learned  and  thoughtful  clergyman,  a  thorough 
grounding  in  the  princij^les  and  truths  of  Christian- 
ity, is  the  last  one  to  be  taken  captive  by  a  false 
system  of  speculation.  He  sees  through  it,  and  is 
not  deceived  by  its  pretensions.  He  is  not  thus  to 
be  irresistibly  borne  down,  by  its  imposing  appear- 
ance. Socrates  is  represented  by  Plato  as  remark 
ing,  that  nothing  so  speedily  disposes  of  a  showy 
and  sounding  system,  like  that  of  the  Sophists,  as  a 
cool  and  deliberate  examination  of  it.  A  bis:  bell, 
27 


418  PASTORAL   THEOLOGY. 

lie  says,  booms  out  a  great  noise,  "but  place  only- 
one  single  finger  firmly  upon  the  bell,  and  tbe 
sound  wliicli  is  going  out  into  all  the  earth,  will 
stop.  A  youth  who  understands  the  scheme  of 
Christianity,  and  has  been  made  deliberative  and 
reflecting,  by  the  catechism,  will  examine  a  preten- 
tious system  before  he  adopts  it,  and,  especially,  be- 
fore he  surrenders  his  religious  belief  for  the  sake 
of  adopting  it. 

In  the  present  condition  of  society,  there  is  great 
need  of  catechetical  instruction,  in  order  to  protect 
the  rising  generation  from  infidelity  ia  the  form  of 
false  philosophy.  Unbelief  does  not  now  adopt  the 
open,  and  comparatively  manly  method  of  the  last 
century.  .  The  English  deists  did  not  pretend  to  be 
Christians,  but  attacked  Christianity  wdth  all  their 
force.  The  French  infidels  did  the  same,  only  with 
more  virulence  and  hatred.  But  the  infidel  of  the 
present  day,  claims  to  be  only  a  more  philosophic 
and  advanced  Christian^\  Skepticism  now  repre- 
sents itself  as  the  refinefnent,  and  inmost  essence,  of 
Christianity.  The  infidel  schools  in  England  and 
America  deny  the  charge  of  unbelief.  They  affirm 
that  they  are  themselves  the  highest  of  believers, 
and  have  a  mission  to  lift  up  the  general  mass  of 
Christians,  to  a  higher,  even  the  highest,  religious 
position.  Their  system  does  not  contain  so  much 
truth  as  that  of  the  English  deists,  neither  is  it  as 
consistently  constructed,  nor  as  clearly  expressed ; 
but  instead  of  allowing  it  to  pass  for  what  it  is, 


CATECHISING.  419 

these  pantheistic  and  materializing  skeptics  attempt 
to  palm  it  off,  as  the  permanent  residuum  of  truth, 
after  the  Biblical  and  ecclesiastical  elements  have 
been  purged  out,  as  dross. 

The  ministry  cannot  protect  the  cultivated  youth 
of  their  care,  from  these  artifices  of  unbelief,  by  de- 
crying philosophy  in  the  abstract.  This  only  ren- 
ders them  suspicious,  and  strengthens  their  doubts, 
if  they  have  any,  respecting  the  rationality  and  phi- 
losophic necessity  of  the  Christian  faith.  A  clergy- 
man should  never  vilify  a  legitimate  department  of 
human  knowledge,  and  philosophy  is  such.  His 
true  method  is,  to  guide  the  inquiring  mind  into  the 
very  science  of  Christianity,  as  it  is  presented  in  the 
creed,  and  thereby  enable  it  to  see,  beyond  dispute, 
that  the  truths  of  Revelation  are  excellent  in  them- 
selves, and  in  their  influence ;  that  they  exhibit 
worthy  views  of  the  Divine  character, — representa- 
tions of  the  holiness,  justice,  mercy,  wisdom,  truth, 
and  power  of  God,  that  are  intuitively  rational ; 
that  in  respect  to  man's  character  (a  point  which 
usually  troubles  the  skeptic,  for  he  is  more  solici- 
tous about  imputations  upon  man,  than  upon  God), 
the  statements  in  the  catechism  are  questions  of 
fact,  and  may  be  verified  by  every  man's  conscious- 
ness,— let  the  clergyman,  in  brief,  fill  the  mind  of 
the  catechumen  with  the  conviction,  that  the  Chris- 
tian system,  as  laid  down  in  the  doctrinal  standards, 
is  the  absolute  and  ultimate  religion  for  man,  and 
he  may  then  leave  him  to  deal  with  infidelity,  and 


420  PASTOEAL   THEOLOGY. 

spurious  philosophy,  by  himself.  Instead  of  being 
made  ashamed  of  Christianity,  and  of  his  Chiistian 
education  and  belief,  by  the  tone  of  the  scorner,  the 
pastor  himself  may,  perhaps,  have  to  guard  his 
j)upil  against  a  too  intense  contempt  for  the  shal- 
lowness of  skej)ticism,  and  remind  him,  that  he  that 
thinketh  he  standeth  must  take  heed  lest  he  fall. 
It  is  certain,  that  if  the  rising  generation  could 
only  receive  such  a  catechetical  and  doctrinal  edu- 
cation as  we  are  describing,  from  the  pastorate  of 
the  land,  infidelity  and  false  philosophy  would  find 
it  difficult  to  draw  breath,  in  such  a  pure  intelr 
lectual  atmosphere  as  would  exist  for  the  next  fifty 
years,  to  say  nothing  of  the  moral  and  religious 
atmosphere  that  would  be  generated. 

3.  A  third  effect  of  catechetical  instruction  upon 
the  congregation,  is  to  promote  a  better  understand- 
ing of  the  Word  of  God.  The  youth  of  this  coun- 
try, during  the  last  half  centuiy,  have  committed 
much  of  the  Bible  to  memory.  The  Sabbath-School 
has  made  the  present  generation  of  both  parents 
and  children,  familiar  with  the  contents  of  Revela- 
tion ;  but  we  are  inclined  to  think,  that  this  mass 
of  material  is  somewhat  lacking  in  system,  and  or- 
ganization. It  is  not  sufficient  to  learn  by  rote, 
indej^endent  passages  and  isolated  texts  of  Scrip- 
ture ;  they  ought  to  be  made  to  teach  some  truth, 
and  establish  some  doctrine,  and  ultimately  be 
systematized  into  a  body  of  theology.  It  is  an 
error,  to  study  the  Bible  without  generalizing  its 


CATECHisEsra  421 

teacliings,  and  acquiring  some  conception  of  it  as  a 
wliole.  Single  unconnected  texts  are  oftentimes 
dangerous  half-truths,  or  positive  untruths.  Noth- 
ing but  the  power  and  impression  of  isolated  pas- 
sages of  Scripture,  keeps  Universalism  in  existence. 
Tne  moment  that  that  denomination  shall  be2:in  to 
understand,  and  interpret,  the  contents  of  the  Bible 
as  a  self-consistent  tuliole,  it  will  begin  to  die, 
"Texts  of  Scripture,"  says  Donne,  "are  like  the 
hairs  in  a  horse's  tail.  Unite  them,  and  they  con- 
cur in  one  root  of  strength  and  beauty ;  but  take 
them  separately,  and  they  can  be  used  only  as 
snares  and  springs  to  catch  woodcocks." 

The  pastor  should,  therefore,  combine  catechet- 
ical with  Sabbath-School  instruction.  While  he 
enlists  the  active  zeal  of  his  best  educated  parish- 
ioners, in  the  Sabbath-School,  he  should  show  his 
own  deep  interest  in  this  excellent  institution,  by 
personally  generalizing  its  teachings,  in  the  catechet- 
ical exercise,  and  thereby  2:)utting  the  crown  upon 
its  influence.  The  pastor  who  thus  completes  the 
work  of  the  Sabbath-School  teachei',  will  raise  up  a 
generation  of  exceedingly  intelligent  Biblical  schol- 
ars. It  was  once  said  of  a  very  learned,  and  at  the 
same  time  veiy  logical,  jurist,  that  his  learning  was 
continually  passing  from  his  memory  into  his  judg- 
ment. His  acquisitions  were  not  merely  passively 
held,  but  were  used  for  the  argumentative  purposes 
of  his  profession.  In  like  manner,  the  indoctrina- 
tion of  Sabbath-School  scholars  causes  the  contents 


422  PASTORAL   THEOLOGY. 

of  the  memory  to  pass  over  into  tlie  reason  and  the 
judgment,  and  makes  all  the  texts  and  passages 
that  have  been  learned,  subservient  to  an  intelligent 
and  self-consistent  religious  belief.  Indeed,  to 
borrow  an  illustration  from  the  Kantean  philosophy, 
the  catechism  does  with  the  memorized  contents  of 
Scripture,  what  the  understanding,  by  its  categories, 
does  with  the  passive  contents  of  the  sense.  It 
reduces  the  scattered  and  manifold  elements  to 
compactness  and  unity,  and  converts  the  large 
and  distracting  variety  of  items  into  distinct 
forms  and  clear  conceptions,  so  that  the  mind  can 
take  this  great  number  of  particulars  all  in  at  once, 
and  feel  their  single  and  combined  impression.  The 
catechism  enables  the  pupil  to  feel  the  force  of  the 
whole  Bible,  and  of  the  Bible  as  a  whole. 

4.  A  fourth  effect  of  catechising,  is  to  render  the 
youth  of  a  congregation  more  intelligent  hearers  of 
preaching.  One  reason  why  preaching  is  uninter- 
esting to  youth,  is  the  fact,  that  they  carry  no  clue 
to  it  in  their  minds.  They  do  not  see  any  very 
close  connection  between  the  sermon,  and  any  thing 
within  themselves.  No  one  can  be  interested  in  a 
discourse,  unless  he  perceives  the  drift  and  bearing 
of  it  ;^  and  in  order  to  this,  he  must  carry  within 

'  This  supposes,  of  course,  that  berry,  in  a  recent  number  of  a 

the  sermon  has  a  drift  and  bear-  popuhxr  monthly  magazine,  repre- 

\ng.     In  some  quarters,  however,  sents  a  certain  pulpit  celebrity  as 

this  unity  and  self-consistence  is  having  introduced  a  new  era  in 

thouglit  to  be  a  defect,  in  sacred  sermonizing,  by  showing  how  to 

eloquence.     For  example,  a  Dog-  deliver  disconi-ses  that  "Edwards 


CATECmSESTG.  423 

himself  some  kind  of  internal  correspondent  to  it. 
Now,  the  mental  correspondent  to  an  excellent  ser- 
mon, is  an  excellent  scheme  of  Christian  doctrine, 
in  the  mind  of  the  hearer.  "When  this  exists,  the 
sermon  has  a  reference,  and  an  easy  reference ;  and 
the  mind  possesses  a  key  that  unlocks  it,  a  clue  or 
magic  thread  which  leads  it  along  through  the 
whole  performance.  This  is  the  reason  why  clergy- 
men are  better  auditors,  generally,  than  laymen. 
They  have  more  of  the  inward  correspondent  to 
the  sermon, — more  knowledge  of  the  Christian  sys- 
tem. It  is  plain,  therefore,  that,  just  in  proportion 
as  the  pastor  indoctrinates  the  youth  of  his  charge, 
he  is  making;  o-ood  auditors  for  himself.  He  will 
find  the  youth,  who  is  generally  too  little  interested 
in  preaching,  looking  up  to  the  pulj^it  with  as  keen 
an  eye  as  any  of  his  hearers,  and  with  a  more  tender 
and  susceptible  heart. 

5.  A  fifth  effect  of  catechising,  is  to  induce  seri- 
ousness among  the  youthful  part  of  the  congrega- 
tion. There  is  such  a  correspondency  between 
truth  and  the  reasonable  soul  of  man, that  reflection 
naturally  results  in  a  grave  temper.     This  is  seen 

and  Yoltairo,  "Wbitefield  and  liko  pulpit  eloquence,  which  re- 
Thomas  Paine,  would  heartily  quires  scientific  training,  and  pro- 
and  equally  enjoy  "  I  Itisimpos-  fessional  culture,  and  at  least  a 
sible,  since  the  invention  of  print-  little  faith  in  the  Christian  reli- 
ing,  and  with  tlio  freedom  and  gion,  in  order  to  its  comprehen- 
cheapness  of  the  press,  to  prevent  sion,  are  as  worthless  as  they 
the  shoemaker  from  going  beyond  would  bo  in  regard  to  the  calcu- 
his  last.  But  such  judgments  of  lus  itself. 
a  mere  litterateur,  upon  a  subject 


424  PASTOKAL    THEOLOGY. 

even  in  tlie  spliere  of  secular  knowledge.  The  men 
of  science, — the  studious  mathematician,  the  curi- 
ous and  analyzing  chemist,  the  gazing  astronomer, — 
are  seriously  disposed.  Study  casts  a  shadow. 
This  is  still  more  true,  in  the  province  of  morals  and 
religion.  He  who  meditates  upon  divine  truth, 
may  not  be  so  changed  by  it  as  to  become  a  new 
creature  in  disposition  and  feeling,  but  he  will  be 
sobered  by  it.  He  has  no  oj^tion.  His  rational 
mind  was  created  to  be  influenced  by  the  great 
truths  of  God  and  eternity,  and  it  is  true  to  its 
construction,  to  the  extent  of  being  made  serious, 
though  not  necessarily  to  the  extent  of  being  made 
holy.  Just  so  far,  consequently,  as  a  pastor  brings 
the  doctrines  of  Christianity  to  bear  upon  the 
youthful  mind,  does  he  solemnize  it.  For  they 
are  the  most  serious  of  all  themes  of  reflection, 
and  throw  a  deeper  shadow  over  a  frivolous  and 
volatile  spirit,  than  all  other  truths ;  and  this  is 
one  reason  why  the  worldly  and  the  gay  shun 
them,  as  they  do  the  house  of  mourning  and  the 
grave-yard.  The  pastor  can  take  no  course  so 
effectual,  against  that  giddy  levity  which  so  infects 
the  younger  portion  of  society,  as  to  imbue  it  with 
evano-elical  ideas.  Such  knowledg-e  elevates  the 
mind,  and  this  mental  elevation  is  opposed  to  the 
emptiness  and  littleness  of  fashionable  life.  If  an 
intellectual  person  does  not  avoid  the  ball-room 
from  any  higher  motive,  he  is  very  apt  to,  from  the 
lower  motive  of  self-respect.     He  is  too  literary  to 


CATECHISING.  425 

dance.  The  same  feeling,  in  kind,  that  keeps  the 
philosopher,  and  the  thoughtful  man  of  science,  from 
the  rounds  of  fashionable  life,  keeps  him  from  them. 
In  this  manner,  the  high  religious  education  which 
we  are  recommending,  makes  its  power  felt  through 
that  younger  portion  of  community  which  so  often 
gives  tone  to  society,  and  prepares  the  way  for  the 
more  decisive  and  actually  converting  effects  of 
Divine  truth. 

6.  And  this  su2:2:ests  as  the  sixth  effect  of  cate- 
chising,  that  it  results  in  frequent  conversions.  The 
Spirit  of  God  is  the  Spirit  of  truth.  Hence  that 
mind  which  is  saturated  with  the  teacliiuo;s  of  Reve- 
lation,  contains  something  with  which  the  Divine 
energy  can  work.  It  is  indeed  true,  tliat  the  in- 
doctrinated natural  man  is  as  really  averse  to  God 
and  holiness,  as  the  uniudoctrinated.  The  carnal 
will  is  the  same,  whether  within  tlie  pale  of 
Christendom  or  out  of  it,  and  the  necessity  of 
Divine  influences,  in  order  to  its  renewal,  is  as 
great  in  one  instance,  as  the  other.  But,  he 
who  has  acquired  a  clear  theoretical  apprehen- 
sion of  the  doctrines  of  Christianity,  is  much 
more  likely  to  be  the  subject  of  special  and 
efficacious  grace,  than  is  the  pagan,  or  the  unin- 
structed  nominal  Christian.  There  may  be  as  much 
perversity  and  obstinacy  of  will,  as  worldly  and 
sinful  affections,  in  the  catechised  as  in  the  uncate- 
chised  youth,  but  there  is  also  an  amount  of  truth 
lu  the  mind  of  the  former,  which  is  not  in  the 


426  PASTOEAL   THEOLOGY. 

latter.  This  truth  is  God's  truth.  God  the  Spirit 
finds  His  own  word  congruous  with  His  own  agency, 
and  therefore  acts  with  it,  and  by  it.  The  Holy 
Ghost,  like  the  Redeemer,  "  comes  to  His  own,"  and 
"  His  own  "  are  the  doctrineg  of  revelation.  Hence, 
conversions  may  be  expected  with  more  frequency 
amons:  an  indoctrinated,  than  amona;  an  unindoctri- 
nated  population.  God  honors  His  own  revelation. 
The  human  mind  is  not  worthy  of  honor  from  the 
Eternal,  but  the  truth  lodged  in  it  is  worthy ;  and 
God  says  to  the  preacher,  as  He  did  to  the  children 
of  Israel,  "  It  is  not  for  your  sake,  but  for  my  truth's 
sake,  and  my  name's  sake,  that  I  bestow  the  bles- 
sintr." 

7.  A  seventh  and  final  effect  of  catechising,  is 
that  it  results  in  genuine  conversions.  Knowledge 
is  favorable  to  thoroughness  in  mental  exercises, 
generally.  The  surest  way  to  prevent  hypocrisy 
or  self-deception,  is  to  cause  the  light  of  truth  to 
shine  into  the  mind.  Give  a  youth,  or  a  man,  cor- 
rect conceptions  of  the  holiness  of  God,  and  the 
spirituality  and  extent  of  the  Divine  law,  and  you 
take  the  most  direct  means  of  preventing  a  spurious 
religious  experience.  He  may  not  come  to  a  genu- 
ine experience,  but  he  will  not  be  liable  to  rest  in  a 
false  one.  He  may  not  become  a  Christian,  but 
neither  will  he  rank  himself  with  Christians.  His 
orthodox  head  will  be  likely  to  keep  him  out  of  the 
visible  Church,  until  he  is  really  fit  to  join  it.  But, 
besides  this  negative  effect,  catechising  tends  directly 


OATEcnisEsra.  427 

to  a  deep  and  wide  religious  experience.  Chris- 
tian cLaracter  matures  rapidly,  wlien  the  mind  is 
leavened  with  evangelical  truth,  and  it  is  developed 
symmetrically,  because  the  fundamental  doctrines 
have  been  studied  in  their  connections  in  a  system. 
These  co-ordinated  truths  regulate  and  shape  the 
expeiience,  so  that  one  grace  or  quality  is  not  neg- 
lected for  the  sake  of  another.  The  Christian 
character  is  developed,  and  compacted,  by  that  which 
every  doctrine  supplies,  making  increase  of  the 
whole  in  true  and  beautiful  proportions. 

These,  then,  are  the  principal  reasons,  why  the 
practice  of  catechising  children  and  youth  should 
be  rej^ristinated  in  the  American  Churches.  It  is 
the  hope,  and  perhaps  somewhat  too  much  the 
boast,  that  the  American  Republic  is  called  to  per- 
form a  great  work  in  the  evangelization  of  the 
globe.  It  will  not  be  either  inclined  or  able  to  do 
this,  unless  it  is  itself  a  deeply  thoughtful  and  pro- 
foundly religious  nation.  It  would  be  a  most  hope- 
ful indication,  if  the  intense  interest  which  the 
American  feels  in  politics,  could  be  transferred  to 
theology,  and  that  wide  acquaintance  with  govern- 
ment, which  marks  him,  might  be  equalled,  and  ex- 
ceeded, by  his  knowledge  of  the  purposes  and  plans 
of  God  in  Redemption.  Would  that  the  laws  and 
principles,  the  ideas  and  doctrines,  of  the  Christian 
religion,  might  be,  for  the  new  power  that  is  rising 
in  the  West,  what  the  civil  law,  and  the  political 
constitution,  were,  for  imperial  Rome  in  the  East. 


428  PASTOEAL    THEOLOGY. 

"  The  Romans,  in  tlieir  best  days,  made  ev^ery  scliool- 
boy  learn  by  heart  the  Twelve  Tables,  and  the 
Twelve  Tables  were  the  catechism  of  Koman  public 
and  private  law,  of  their  constitution,  and  of  the 
jDroud  jus  Quiritmm  that  led  the  Roman  citizen  to 
pronounce  so  confidently,  as  a  vox  et  invooatio^  his 
clm8  Momanus  sum,  in  the  most  distant  comers  of 
the  land,  and  which  the  captive  Apostle  collectedly 
asserted  twice  before  the  provincial  officers.  Cicero 
says  that  when  he  was  a  boy,  he  learned  the  Twelve 
Tables  ut  carmen  necessariuin,  like  an  indispensable 
formulary,  a  political  breviary,  and  deplores  that  at 
the  time  when  he  was  composing  his  treatise  on 
the  Laws,  in  which  he  mentions  the  fact,  the  prac- 
tice was  fallino;  into  disuse."^  Such  ouo-ht  to  be 
the  interest  taken  in  the  Christian  faith,  by  a  people 
like  the  American,  the  foundations  of  whose  gov- 
ernment were  laid  in  the  truths  of  Revelation,  and 
all  of  whose  early  history  was  religious.  Upon  the 
clergy,  it  mainly  depends,  whether  systematic  reli- 
gion, or  systematic  infidelity,  shall  be  the  future  car- 
men  necessarimn  of  the  multiplying  millions  on  this 
continent.  Sir  Joshua  Reynolds,  in  the  last  of  his 
Lectures  before  the  Royal  Academy,  thus  expresses 
his  sense  of  the  importance  of  the  study  of  the 
works,  and  spirit,  of  the  mightiest  and  greatest  of 
artists :  "  I  should  desire  that  the  last  words  which 
I  should  pronounce  in  this  Academy,  and  from  this 

'Liebeh:  Inaugural  Discourse  before  Columbia  College. 


CATECHismo.  429 

place,  miglit  be  tlie  name  of  Michael  Angelo."  In 
closing  these  brief  chapters  upon  Pastoral  Theology, 
we  feel  deeply,  that  there  is  not  a  topic  of  greater 
importance  than  this  subject  of  catechising;  and 
the  last  words  we  should  desire  to  address  a  young 
clergyman,  as  he  is  going  forth  to  his  life-long 
labor,  would  be  an  exhortation  to  make  full  proof 
of  that  part  of  his  ministry,  to  which  belongs  the 
indoctrination  of  the  rising  generation,  in  the  truths 
and  principles  of  the  Christian  Religion. 


THE  END. 


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GAYLORD 

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